4. A Story of Brigands

“It was a wolf,” he said quietly to the child; “he must have been very hungry to have followed so near to us.”

The wolf was dead.

“Oh!” said Maroussia, “you are not afraid of anything,”

“Yes, I am, I am afraid of everything which interrupts your story. The brigand’s wife, then, had found a handkerchief.”

“Yes,” said Maroussia. “The sight of this handkerchief, so sweetly perfumed, which had not belonged to a man, made her think.

“‘They came this way this morning,’ she said to herself, ‘and if that is so they will probably have nothing more to do here. I must choose this road.’

“But, before starting, the good idea came to her of fastening a pretty red ribbon, which ornamented her corsage, to a branch, standing out in the road opposite the one she was going to take, in such a manner that it could be seen from a distance. ‘They will see this little ribbon there, and thus they will pursue by the road which I have not taken.’ To put them on the wrong scent was not a bad idea, was it?”

“It was very well planned, indeed,” said the Envoy.

“Glad to have thought of that, she started like a deer in the road of the embroidered handkerchief. She ran in it a long, long time. Night came; it was so dark that she knew no longer what was over her head, whether it was an arch of stone, or a leafy canopy.

“‘I must continue walking, walking,’ she said to herself, when weariness overcame her. ‘God, who has led me so far, will not forsake me.’ Suddenly she struck something. The road made a sharp turn, but instead of complaining of the hurt, she was almost ready in her surprise to give a cry of joy.

“All the stars of heaven were shining at last over her head; no arch, either of stone or of interlacing branches, weighed longer on her. She was in a great open space.”

“Ah! so much the better,” said the Envoy, “that encourages me for her.”

Maroussia for sole response shook her head and pressed his hand more strongly.

“Unfortunately, the poor wife of the brigand chief had little time to rejoice, for, all at once, she heard very distinctly voices, cries, and the noise of horses running at a gallop.

“What could she do now? Where to find a refuge? How to hide herself? Go back into the gallery? That would be to return to the chateau.