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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Why, there's the countess's mare, Gothard's horse, and Monsieur d'Hauteserre's." "There is only one in the stable," said Peyrade. "Mademoiselle is out riding," said Durieu. "Does she often ride about at this time of night?" said the libertine Peyrade, addressing Monsieur d'Hauteserre. "Often," said the good man, simply. "Monsieur le maire can tell you that."
Then Henri Durien, the convict, sprang up beside her; the man for whom she had made a life's sacrifice for whom she had come to this! His head was bandaged and clotted with blood; his eyes shone with the fierceness of an animal at bay. Close after him crowded the handful of his frenzied compatriots in crime. Then a rifle-crack was heard, and Henri Durieu fell at the feet of Gabrielle.
She hurried forward, but she saw no one but Father Durieu, a driver whom the doctor was in the habit of employing. She questioned him eagerly. The old man, a taciturn Provencal, was in no haste to answer. His wagon was there, and he asked her for the checks for her luggage, wishing to see about the trunks before anything else.
Durieu prepared a succulent dinner, the servants donned their best clothes, and the household impatiently awaited the exiles, who arrived about four o'clock, happy, and yet humiliated, for they found they were to be under police surveillance for two years, obliged to present themselves at the prefecture every month and ordered to remain in the commune of Cinq-Cygne during the said two years.
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