Yet at last they paused to look around them and wonder, in but half-framed whispers, whether they were coming the right way.
Père Mouet was an unerring guide; without him difficulties presented themselves more forcibly every moment.
It was no easy task, indeed, to keep to a right track across that almost trackless lande.
Gorse-bushes made but poor landmarks, and there were neither trees nor hillocks near to guide them.
It was true that the coast lay before them, but this cave would be hard to find if they had gone out of their path in approaching it.
Had it not been for the moonlight they would have despaired. As it was, they gazed around in bewilderment and anxiety. Behind them lay the forest. Beyond that--Varenac.
Ah! what was happening at Varenac? Another question to torment them!
Again, it was possible that the others had already reached the cave. If so, in what apprehension they would be waiting!
At any rate they must press forward. Enemies might overtake them at any moment. The persuasions of Floessel or his fellows might again incite the peasants to pursue them, and they had walked but slowly.
Hark! Listen! The muffled thud, thud, of horse-hoofs coming from the left.
The wind had dropped and mists were gathering again. They could not pierce those dark shadows, strain their eyes as they might.
Yet horsemen were coming towards them across the moors.
Could it be those who had gone to Varenac?
It seemed impossible, since they came from the direction of Kérnak.
That was Gabrielle's instant thought as she clung to Cécile's hand.
Yes, it would be those two. They were pursuing them, they would find them.
Instinct had long since told Gabrielle what Lord Denningham's feelings towards her were. She already vaguely guessed his intentions.
But she would die sooner than marry him. Oh! it would be easy to die, rather than that.
And he had ridden to, and from, Kérnak now to find her.
Not even a gorse-bush near, and the horse-hoofs were approaching quickly. Through the mists she would soon see her enemy appear, and then what escape would be possible?
Her fears were the fears of her companions, though theirs were vaguer, wrought more from strained nerves than knowledge. Yet what could they do?