ts, leaving Corinna not a word to say. He rode, a mounted constable, by her side, and on arriving at the inn carried her up to her room and talked with much authority.
Then, having passed through Poitiers and Ruffec, they came, three weeks after their start from Paris, to Angoulême, daintiest of cities, perched on its bastioned rocks above the Charente. And here, as it was the penultimate stage of their journey, they sojourned a few days.
They stood on the shady rampart and gazed over the red-roofed houses embowered in greenery at the great plain golden in harvest and drenched in sunshine, and sighed.
“I dread Brant?me,” said Corinna. “It marks something definite. Hitherto we have been going along vaguely, in a sort of stupefied dream. At Brant?me we’ll have to think.”
“I’ve no doubt it will do us good,” said Martin.
“I fail to see it,” said Corinna. “We’ll just have the same old worry over again.”
“I’m not so sure,” Martin answered. “In the first place we’re not quite the same people as we were