His lean malevolent face and sunken eyes, his very dumbness chilled me.

Mercy had no place there.
We rode soberly, so that nearly half an hour elapsed before we gained the brow from which I had taken my first look at Cocheforet.

Among the dwarf oaks whence I had viewed the valley we paused to breathe our horses, and the strange feelings with which I looked back on the scene may be imagined.

But I had short time for indulging in sentiment or recollections.

A curt word, and we were moving again.
A quarter of a mile farther on, the road to Auch dipped into the valley.
When we were already half way down this descent the innkeeper suddenly stretched out his hand and caught my rein.
'This way!' he said.
I saw that he would have me turn into a by-path leading south-westwards--a mere track, faint and little trodden and encroached on by trees, which led I knew not whither.