Then he held down a hand to her, bade her set her foot on his, and called with an oath to Rabecque to lend her his assistance.

A moment later she was perched in front of Garnache, almost on the withers of his horse.

The cobbles rattled under its hooves, the timbers of the drawbridge sent up a booming sound, they were across--out of Condillac--and speeding at a gallop down the white road that led to the river; after them pounded Rabecque, bumping horribly in his saddle, and attempting wildly, and with awful objurgations, to find his stirrups.
They crossed the bridge that spans the Isere and took the road to Grenoble at a sharp pace, with scarce a backward glance at the grey towers of Condillac.

Valerie experienced an overwhelming inclination to weep and laugh, to cry and sing at one and the same time; but whether this odd emotion sprang from the happenings in which she had had her part, or from the exhilaration of that mad ride, she could not tell.

No doubt it sprang from both, owing a part to each.