He answered me that M.de Canaples was not in the chateau.

It was believed that he had gone with M.Louis, the intendant of the estates, to visit the vineyards at Montcroix.
The news made me choke with impatience.

Already it was close upon five o'clock, and in another hour the sun would set and the Angelus would toll the knell of Mademoiselle's preposterous suspicions, unless in the meantime I had speech with Canaples, and led him to employ a father's authority to keep his daughter indoors.
Fuming at the contretemps I called for my horse and set out at a brisk trot for Montcroix.

But my ride was fruitless.

The vineyard peasants had not seen the Chevalier for over a week.
Now, 'twixt Montcroix and the chateau there lies a good league, and to make matters worse, as I galloped furiously back to Canaples, an evil chance led me to mistake the way and pursue a track that brought me out on the very banks of the river, with a strong belt of trees screening the chateau from sight, and defying me to repair my error by going straight ahead.
I was forced to retrace my steps, and before I had regained the point where I had gone astray a precious quarter of an hour was wasted, and the sun already hung, a dull red globe, on the brink of the horizon.
Clenching my teeth, I tore at my horse's flanks, and with a bloody heel I drove the maddened brute along at a pace that might have cost us both dearly.