He walked about a long time, and when he came in to supper he took delight for the rest of the evening in watching his daughter in the midst of the soft brown poesy with which he had surrounded her; and when, before she went to bed, they all--the grandmother, the nurse, the doctor, and Gabrielle--knelt together to say their evening prayer, he added the words,-- "Let us pray to God to bless my enterprise." The eyes of the grandmother, who knew his intentions, were moistened with what tears remained to her.

Gabrielle's face was flushed with happiness.

The father trembled, so much did he fear some catastrophe.
"After all," his mother said to him, "fear not, my son.

The duke would never kill his grandchild." "No," he replied, "but he might compel her to marry some brute of a baron, and that would kill her." The next day Gabrielle, mounted on an ass, followed by her nurse on foot, her father on his mule, and a valet who led two horses laden with baggage, started for the castle of Herouville, where the caravan arrived at nightfall.

In order to keep this journey secret, Beauvouloir had taken by-roads, starting early in the morning, and had brought provisions to be eaten by the way, in order not to show himself at hostelries.