After a long and
toilsome progress through pathless and deeply shaded wilds, we reached,
in the afternoon, the forest inn kept by Godeau and his wife. It had been
my intention to stop and rest here, and to send Blaise ahead to Maury,
that one of the rooms of our ruined chateau might be made fit for
mademoiselle's reception. I had expected to find the inn, as usual,
without guests, but on approaching it we heard the sound of music
proceeding from a stringed instrument. We stopped at the edge of the
small, cleared space before the inn and sent Blaise to reconnoitre. He
boldly entered and presently returned, followed by the decrepit Godeau
and his strapping wife, Marianne. Both gave us glad welcome, the old man
with obsequious bows which doubtless racked his rheumatic joints, the
woman with bustling cordiality.
"Be at ease, monsieur," said Marianne. "We have no one within except two
gypsies, who will make music for you and tell your fortunes. Godeau, look
to the horses."
I dismounted and assisted mademoiselle to descend. Then, on the pretext
of giving an order, I took Marianne and Godeau aside, and bade them to
address me as M. de Launay, not on any account as M. de la Tournoire. The
old man then saw to our horses, and Marianne brought us wine.
"Before sunset," I said to mademoiselle, as I raised my glass, "you shall
meet the Sieur de la Tournoire at his hiding-place.
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