Paul and His Dog - Volume Ii Part 13
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Volume Ii Part 13

"No, I heard nothing."

"Nothing? listen again."

This time a prolonged groan was heard by them very distinctly. Honorine began to tremble. She tried to hasten on, but her legs gave way; she could only cling to Agathe's arm, saying:

"You see--the peasant did not deceive us. This is a ghastly place! Mon Dieu! I should say that someone was running toward us now."

"That is true; but it's no man running so fast as that."

Agathe had hardly finished speaking when Ami, the n.o.ble Newfoundland, was beside her. After running around the two friends several times, as if to see if they were alone, he went to the girl, rubbed his head against her, wagged his tail, and stood on his hind legs, fixing his intelligent eyes upon her as if to express the joy he felt at seeing her.

"It's Ami! it's Ami!" cried Agathe, patting the dog. "Oh! now I am not afraid any more; for, if we should be in any danger, he would defend us."

"It certainly is Monsieur Paul's dog; if he is here, his master cannot be far away."

"At this moment, I should not be at all sorry to meet him. See, Honorine, Ami is going into the ravine; now he stops and comes back to us, and now he turns back again. He certainly is urging us to follow him; come."

"But we can't see where we are going; and those groans that we heard----"

"The dog is with us, and I am not afraid any more."

Honorine allowed herself to be led into the ravine by Agathe, who had taken her hand.

The dog trotted before them. It was very dark in that sunken road, but they had taken scarcely twenty steps when a brilliant flash of lightning furrowed the clouds and enabled them to see distinctly everything within thirty yards. They then saw the owner of the Tower on his knees beside a gra.s.sy mound at one side of the road, in the centre of which stood a wooden cross.

At that strange apparition the two women halted, grasping each other by the hand; then Agathe murmured very low:

"Do you see that?"

"Yes, it's Monsieur Paul; and he is kneeling by the cross on that grave."

"Isn't it very strange? What can he be doing by that cross?"

"One would think that he was weeping; listen, listen! I believe he is speaking."

It was true that Ami's master, believing himself to be alone on that spot which the people round about were careful to avoid, especially at night, uttered these words:

"Forgive me, unfortunate victim of the most dastardly treachery. Ah, me!

if only I could have fulfilled your last wishes, it seems to me that you might forgive me for your death. But it was impossible; all my efforts were fruitless!"

"Did you hear?" murmured Honorine to her companion; "he said: 'You might forgive me for your death.'--So it must have been he who killed the person who is under that cross! Why, this is frightful!"

"It isn't possible," said Agathe; "we couldn't have heard right."

At that moment, Ami, who had reached his master's side, looked up in his face and began to yelp, but softly, not angrily. It was his way of informing his master that he was no longer alone.

"What! is there someone here?" cried Paul, springing hastily to his feet; "where, Ami? where, I say?"

The dog ran back to the two friends who stood a short distance away, trembling, afraid to go forward or to retreat, especially since they had heard the words uttered by that mysterious man.

"What! ladies?" cried Paul, stopping in front of them. "Why, this is strange; so far as the darkness permits me to distinguish your features, I seem to recognize the ladies whom I escorted back to Ch.e.l.les a few weeks ago."

"Yes, monsieur, it is we," replied Agathe, who was the first to recover her courage. "It is we again, and sorely embarra.s.sed; for we were surprised by the storm, then by the darkness; we lost our way, and I do not know what would have become of us, but for your dog. He met us and recognized us; and we followed him, having no idea where he was leading us."

"But you are a long way from Ch.e.l.les; did you find no protection from the storm?"

"Only some big trees. It is so deserted about here."

"Is madame indisposed?"

This question was addressed to Honorine, who, pale as a statue, had not yet uttered a word, because she recalled too distinctly those uttered by their companion when he believed himself to be alone before the cross on the grave.

But, feeling that her companion was nudging her, Madame Dalmont said in a faltering tone:

"No, monsieur, no; I am not ill; but I had a fright, and----"

"She was afraid of the storm," interposed Agathe hastily; "and just now she admitted to me that she could not walk."

"Oh! that's all over, and I can walk very well now."

"Since chance has placed me in your path again, mesdames, you will allow me to act as your guide once more, and to take you home."

"Oh! I thank you, monsieur, but if you will be kind enough to take us as far as the bridge at Gournay, that will be sufficient. Really, you might well conceive a strange idea of us, when you constantly find us wandering about the country at night, and always obliged to call upon you for a.s.sistance!"

"When I am able to render a trifling service, madame, my thoughts do not go beyond it, and I do not try to guess by what circ.u.mstances the occasion was brought about. I am simply doing my duty, and you owe me no grat.i.tude."

"Oh, dear! I believe it is beginning to rain again!" cried Agathe; "for my part, monsieur may think what he pleases, but I am very glad that we met him, and I accept his arm with pleasure."

And the girl took Monsieur Paul's arm without more ado. He looked at Honorine, who, after a moment's indecision, decided at last to take his other arm, and they started off at a rapid pace, escorted by the faithful Ami.

But Honorine's arm trembled so in her cavalier's that he finally said:

"How you tremble, madame! is it with cold, or with fear of the storm? It is pa.s.sing over, and you will reach home safely."

"Yes, monsieur, it's the thunder; it has upset me completely."

"Pray lean on me, madame; one would think that you were afraid of tiring me, and I can hardly feel you."

"Thanks, monsieur, thanks; I am leaning on you as much as I need."

"We were altogether lost when we saw you, thanks to your dog," said Agathe; "that is a very lonely spot where you were, monsieur!"

"Yes, mademoiselle; yet it is quite near my house."

"That road, monsieur, is the ravine where there is a cross, is it not?"

If Honorine had been next to Agathe, she would have pinched her viciously, to make her regret her question, but their escort separated them; so that she could only make a convulsive movement, which she instantly checked, pretending that she had made a misstep.

"Yes, mademoiselle," replied Paul curtly, "that is the ravine of the cross."