The old man stepped over the side of the boat after him, and examined the horizon.
"Monseigneur," said Halmalo, "we are at the mouth of the Couesnon. There is Beauvoir to starboard, and Huisnes to port. The bell tower in front of us is Ardevon."
The old man bent down over the boat, took a biscuit out of it and put it in his pocket, and said to Halmalo,—
"Take the rest."
Halmalo put what remained of the meat, with the rest of the biscuits, in a bag, and threw it over his shoulder. Having done this, he said,—
"Monseigneur, shall I lead the way or follow you."
"Neither."
Halmalo looked in amazement at the old man.
The old man continued: "Halmalo, we are going to separate. It will not do for us to be together. There must be a thousand or only one."
He paused and drew out of one of his pockets a bow of green silk, very like a cockade, in the centre of which was embroidered a fleur-de-lis, in gold. He continued,—
"Can you read?"
"No."
"Very good. A man who can read is a nuisance. Have you a good memory?"
"Yes."
"Good. Listen, Halmalo. You must go to the right, and I will go to the left. I shall go in the direction of Fougères, and you must go towards Bazouges. Keep your bag, which gives you the appearance of a peasant. Conceal your weapons. Cut a stick for yourself in the hedges. Creep through the rye, which is high. Crawl behind the fences. Climb over the hedges, and go across the fields. Keep at a distance from those you meet. Avoid the roads and bridges. Do not enter Pontorson. Ah! you will have to cross the Couesnon. How will you do that?"
"Swim across?"
"Good. And then there is a ford. Do you know where it is?"
"Between Ancey and Vieux-Viel."
"Good. You really belong to the country."
"But night is coming on. Where will monseigneur sleep?"
