“I swear,” said Edmee, “to be no man’s before being yours.”

“That is not it.  Swear to be mine before being any other’s.”

“It is the same thing,” she answered.  “Yes; I swear it.”

“On the gospel?  On the name of Christ?  By the salvation of your soul?  By the memory of your mother?”

“On the gospel; in the name of Christ; by the salvation of my soul; by the memory of my mother.”

“Good.”

“One moment,” she rejoined; “I want you to swear that my promise and its fulfilment shall remain a secret; that my father shall never know it, or any person who might tell him.”

“No one in the world shall hear it from me.  Why should I want others to know, provided only that you keep your word?”

She made me repeat the formula of an oath.  Then we hurried forth into the open, holding each other’s hands as a sign of mutual trust.

But now our flight became dangerous.  Edmee feared the besiegers almost as much as the besieged.  We were fortunate enough not to meet any.  Still, it was by no means easy to move quickly.  The night was so dark that we were continually running against trees, and the ground was so slippery that we were unable to avoid falls.  A sudden noise made us start; but, from the rattle of the chain fixed on its foot, I immediately recognised my grandfather’s horse, an animal of an extraordinary age, but still strong and spirited.  It was the very horse that had brought me to Roche-Mauprat ten years before.  At present the only thing that would serve as a bridle was the rope round its neck.  I passed this through its mouth, and I threw my jacket over the crupper and helped my companion to mount; I undid the chain, sprang on the animal’s back, and urging it on desperately, made it set off at a gallop, happen what might.  Luckily for us, it knew the paths better than I, and, as if by instinct, followed their windings without knocking against any trees.  However, it frequently slipped, and in recovering itself, gave us such jolts that we should have lost our seats a thousand times (equipped as we were) had we not been hanging between life and death.  In such a strait desperate ventures are best, and God protects those whom man pursues.  We were congratulating ourselves on being out of danger, when all at once the horse struck against a stump, and catching his hoof in a root on the ground, fell down.  Before we were up he had made off into the darkness, and I could hear him galloping farther and farther away.  As we fell I had caught Edmee in my arms.  She was unhurt.  My own ankle, however, was sprained so severely that it was impossible for me to move a step.  Edmee thought that my leg had been broken.  I was inclined to think so myself, so great was the pain; but soon I thought no further either of my agony or my anxiety.  Edmee’s tender solicitude made me forget everything.  It was in vain that I urged her to continue her flight without me.  I pointed out that she could now escape alone; that we were some distance from the chateau; that day would soon be breaking; that she would be certain to find some house, and that everywhere the people would protect her against the Mauprats.