At the same moment Blaise came from the garden and stood beside the
bench, curious to hear Frojac's news.
"Ah, Frojac!" said I. "From Clochonne? I know your news already. M. de la
Chatre is there."
And I motioned to him to speak quietly, lest his news, which might
be alarming, should reach the ears of mademoiselle through her
chamber window.
"I had a talk with one of his men," said Frojac, "an old comrade of mine,
who did not guess that I was of your troop. I told him that I had given
up righting and settled down as a poacher. He says that it is well known
to the governor's soldiers that the governor has come south to catch you.
He declares that the governor knows the exact location of your
hiding-place."
"Soldiers' gabble," said I.
"But my old comrade is no fool," went on Frojac. "I pretended to laugh at
him for thinking that any one could find out the burrow of La Tournoire,
and as we were drinking he got angry and swore that he spoke truly. He
said that the governor had got word of your hiding-place from a boy. If
you knew my comrade, monsieur, you would know that what he says is to be
heeded. He is one who talks little, but keeps his ears and eyes open."
"Word from a boy?" I repeated, rather to myself. "Could De Berquin have
found some peasant boy and despatched him to the governor?"
"My comrade says that the boy was sent by a woman," said Frojac.
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