"In my house, Monsieur!" He was silent a moment.

Then, "Your house, Madame?
In which direction is it, from here ?" "Westwards," she answered impulsively, her voice quivering with eagerness and emotion and hope.

"Westwards, Monsieur--on the sea.

The causeway from the land is long, and ten can hold it against ten hundred." "Westwards?
And how far westwards ?" Tignonville answered for her; in his tone throbbed the same eagerness, the same anxiety, which spoke in hers.

Nor was Count Hannibal's ear deaf to it.
"Through Challans," he said, "thirteen leagues." "From Clisson ?" "Yes, Monsieur le Comte." "And by Commequiers less," the Countess cried.
"No, it is a worse road," Tignonville answered quickly; "and longer in time." "But we came--" "At our leisure, Madame.