"Millau is nearer, is it not, madame?"
"But Nant is not far from the Chateau de Montalais; and at La
Roque-Sainte-Marguerite our automobile is waiting, less than two miles
below. The chauffeur advised against bringing over the road from La
Roque to Montpellier; it is too rough and very steep."
"Oh!" said Duchemin, as one who catches a glimmering of light.
"Pardon, monsieur?"
"Madame's chauffeur is waiting with the automobile, no doubt?"
"But assuredly, monsieur."
He recollected himself. "We shall see what we shall see, then, at La
Roque. With an automobile at your disposal, Nant is little more distant
than Millau, certainly. Nevertheless, let us not delay."
"Monsieur is too good."
Momentarily a hand slender and firm and cool rested in his own. Then
its owner was setting into place beside Madame de Sevenie, and Duchemin
clambering up to his on the box.
The road proved quite as rough and declivitous as its reputation. One
surmised that the Spring rains had found it in a bad way and done
nothing to better its condition. Deep ruts and a liberal sprinkling of
small boulders collaborated to keep the horses stumbling, plunging and
pitching as they strained back against the singletrees.
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