'What have you been saying to her, man ?' 'She will tell you,' I answered drily, my composure returning under his eye.

'Amongst other things, that you are free.

From this moment, M.
de Cocheforet, I give you back your parole, and I take my own honour.
Farewell.' He cried out something as I mounted, but I did not stay to heed or answer.

I dashed the spurs into my horse, and rode away past the cross-roads, past the finger-post; away with the level upland stretching before me, dry, bare, almost treeless; and behind me, all I loved.

Once, when I had gone a hundred yards, I looked back and saw him standing upright against the sky, staring after me across her body.