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M. de Cocheforet's hiding-place is in the hut behind the fern-stack, two furlongs beyond the village on the road to Auch. You know now what no one else knows, he and I and Madame excepted. You hold in your hands his life and my honour; and you know also, M. de Berault, whether I believe that tale. 'My God! I cried.
M. Cocheforet's COMPRENEZ BIEN! And while I turned away my face in the darkness that he might not see me smile, I was not surprised to find the man in a moment changed, and become, in the closing of the door, as sober and suspicious as before, ashamed of himself and enraged with me, and in a mood to cut my throat for a trifle. It was not my cue to quarrel, however.
'Is he going to take you to M. de Cocheforet's hiding-place? 'Yes, he is! the Captain retorted. 'Have you any objection to that, Master Spy? 'None, I replied. 'Only I shall go with you. And if you live three months, I shall kill you for that name-behind the barracks at Auch, M. le Capitaine. He changed colour, but he answered me boldly enough.
Here I found all in readiness, the two troopers whose company I had requisitioned as far as Auch, already in the saddle, my own two knaves waiting with my sorrel and M. de Cocheforet's chestnut. Another horse was being led up and down by Louis, and, alas! my heart moved at the sight, for it bore a lady's saddle. We were to have company then.
Luckily, the guise in which I came, my fatigue, and wound were a sufficient mask, or I should have incurred suspicion at once. For I am sure that if ever in this world a brave man wore a hang-dog air, or Gil de Berault fell below himself, it was then and there on Madame de Cocheforet's threshold, with her welcome sounding in my ears. One, I think, did suspect me.
I have been enjoying Madame de Cocheforet's hospitality for some time, but by an evil chance I was away when you arrived. And with that I walked to the hearth, and, gently pushing aside his great boots which stood there drying, I kicked the logs into a blaze. 'MILLE DIABLES! he whispered. And never did I see a man more confounded.
But I understood. I knew that he had neatly betrayed all that he had been on the point of blurting out that that was M. de Cocheforet's horse!
My second thought turned on the question how they had come where I had found them, among the powdered spice and perfumes in Mademoiselle de Cocheforet's sachet.
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