“No one, madame.”

“That cavalier whom we met at Valenciennes, and who inquired about us, after looking at us so curiously?”

“He is not here, madame.”

“But I fancied I saw him again near Mons.”

“And I, madame, am sure I saw him just before we entered Brussels.”

“Brussels?”

“Yes; but he must have stopped there.”

“Remy,” said Diana, drawing near him, as if even on that lonely road she feared to be overheard, “did he not seem to you like (in figure, at least, for I did not see his face) that unhappy young man?”

“Oh! no, madame, not at all; and besides, how could he have guessed that we had left Paris, and were traveling along this road?”

“But he found us out when we changed our house in Paris.”

“No, madame, I am sure he did not follow us; and, indeed, I believe he had resolved on a desperate course as regards himself.”

“Alas!  Remy, every one has his own share of suffering.  I trust God will console this poor youth.”

Remy replied with a sigh, and they went on with no other sound than that of their horses’ feet on the hard road.  Two hours passed thus.  Just as they were about to enter Vilvoide, Remy turned his head, for he heard the sound of horses’ feet behind them.  He stopped and listened, but could see nothing.  His eyes uselessly tried to pierce through the darkness of the night, and as he no longer heard any sounds, they rode on and entered the town.

“Madame,” said he, “if you will take my advice, you will stay here; daylight will soon appear, the horses are tired, and you yourself need repose.”

“Remy, you are anxious about something.”

“Yes, about your health, madame.  Believe me, a woman cannot support so much fatigue; I can scarcely do so myself.”

“As you please, Remy.”

“Well, then, enter that narrow street.  I see a light at the end of it, which must proceed from an inn.  Be quick, I beg you.”

“You have heard something?”

“I thought I heard a horse’s feet.  I am not sure, but I will stay behind a minute to find out.”

The lady, without replying, went on, and Remy got off his horse and let him follow her, while he hid himself behind an immense post and waited.  The lady knocked at the door of the inn, behind which, according to the hospitable custom of the country, watched, or rather slept, a maid servant.  The girl woke up and received the traveler with perfect good-humor, and then opened the stable-door for the two horses.

“I am waiting for my companion,” said Diana; “let me sit by the fire; I shall not go to bed until he comes.”

The servant threw some straw to the horses, shut the stable door, then returned to the kitchen, put a chair by the fire, snuffed the candle with her fingers, and went to sleep again.

Meanwhile Remy was watching for the arrival of the traveler whose horse he had heard.  He saw him enter the town and go on slowly, and seeming to listen; then, seeing the inn, he appeared to hesitate whether to go there or to continue his journey.  He stopped close to Remy, who laid his hand on his knife.