The prospect of such a state of existence would have been horrible enough to most people; but to Clara de la Roche it offered that blessed repose and security--that temporary cessation of terror, and horror, and fatigue--which had filled every hour of her being during the months just past; and with joy she took up her abode in the chamber, which, indeed, was little different from a prison in any thing but the name. While the good old peasant was still in the act of showing her how to open and to close the door at will, a step was heard behind them; and, turning quickly round, Clara beheld a pretty peasant girl, of about eighteen or twenty, entering the cottage; while old La Brousse told her not to be afraid, as it was only Ninette, a cousin's child, who kept his house for him, and who might be trusted as much as himself. Clara had no fears when she beheld a peasant, and she felt too, as most women would feel, that although she might see but little of Ninette, yet there was great comfort in having one other of her own sex constantly near her. The peasant girl too, habituated to such scenes, seemed to understand her situation at once, and came forward to speak to her with much kindness; but the tidings that she had seen horsemen upon the hill, riding about as if in search of some one, abridged all ceremony, and Clara at once took up her abode in her place of concealment. Scarcely was the door in the back of the _armoire_ closed, and the interior of the cottage restored to its usual aspect, when Clara, as she listened anxiously, heard the tramp of horse--to her ears a sound accursed--and the shouting voice of soldiery disturbing the quiet solitude in which she had taken refuge. In another moment they entered the cottage, and she soon found that she herself together with several other royalists, was the object of their search. With breathless anxiety she continued to listen while the whole house was examined, with the exception of the very spot in which she lay concealed. Nor was her fear to end, even when the soldiers had satisfied themselves that she was not there; for, having given the farm of Dervais as a rendezvous to several of their comrades scattered over the hill, the dragoons remained for several hours, drinking, singing, and mingling together in a foul strain, which they called conversation, blasphemy, ferocity, boasting, and ribaldry. At length, however, after many a weary moment spent by Clara in intense anxiety, the soldiers were joined by their their companions; and, mounting their horses, they once more rode away, leaving her to a longer interval of peace and security than she had known for many months. CHAPTER II.