"I will take care of myself. But where will you sleep?"
"There are hollow-trees. Before I was a sailor, I was a peasant."
"Throw away your sailor cap; it will betray you. You will easily find a carapousse somewhere."
"Oh, a tarpaulin.—I can find that anywhere. The first fisherman I see will sell me his."
"Good. Now, listen. You know the woods."
"Everywhere."
"All over the country?"
"From Noirmoutier to Laval."
"Do you know their names too?"
"I know the woods, I know their names, I know all about them."
"You will not forget anything?"
"Nothing."
"Good. Now, pay attention. How many leagues can you walk a day?"
"Ten, fifteen, eighteen, twenty, if necessary."
"It will be necessary. Don't lose a word of what I am going to tell you. You must go to the woods of Saint-Aubin."
"Near Lamballe?"
"Yes. On the edge of the ravine between Saint-Rieul, and Plédélica there is a great chestnut-tree. You must stop there. You will see nobody."
"Which does not prove that nobody will be there, I know."
"You must make the call. Do you know how to make the call?"
Halmalo puffed out his cheeks, turned toward the sea, and the "to-who," of an owl was heard.
It seemed to come from the depths of night; it was a perfect imitation and uncanny.
"Good," said the old man. "You have it."
He handed the green silk bow to Halmalo,
"Here is my badge of command. Take it. It is important that nobody should know my name at present. But this bow will be enough. The fleur-de-lis was embroidered by Madame Royale, in the Temple prison."
Halmalo put one knee on the ground. He received the embroidered bow with trembling, and touched it to his lips; then, stopping, as if afraid to kiss it,—
