When Bernard de Rohan called him by his name, however, asking if he did not recollect him, astonishment, not a little mingled with superstitious fear, made the man nearly fall from his horse, and he felt strongly inclined to argue the matter with his young master, in order to persuade him that he was really dead. At length, becoming fully convinced that such was not the case, and that Bernard himself, in a bodily and corporeal form, was before his eyes, he gave him the information which he desired regarding Isabel de Brienne, though that information was by no means satisfactory to the young cavalier.
The lady had arrived at Grenoble, he said, on the very same day that she had set out from Gandelot's inn; but, finding that her brother was not there, and had not sent any notice of his coming to the house in the city where she expected to hear of him, she had taken her departure on the following morning, in order to reach the capital and throw herself upon the protection of the king as speedily as possible. She hoped to arrive at Vienne in one day, the man continued, and had sent him off at once to convey intelligence of her route to somebody he was to meet at Gandelot's inn.
"Then how happened you not to be there last night?" demanded Bernard de Rohan. "Had you pursued your journey, you would have saved me the trouble of coming to Grenoble, and would have enabled me to cut across the country and join her at Vienne this morning. Now she will be two whole days in advance of me."
"And not a horse will you get in Grenoble with which to pursue your way," replied the man; "for that's the reason, sir, why I did not come on at once."
"Had you not your own horse?" demanded Bernard de Rohan, somewhat angrily.
"Yes, sir," answered the servant, "I had; but a sad accident happened to him, poor fellow. I left Grenoble at the very same moment that the lady set out for Vienne; but I had not got far beyond La Tronche, when, the road being covered with loose stones which had rolled down from the hill, my horse slipped and fell, cutting both his knees to pieces. I was obliged to lead him back into the town, and no horse could I get for love or money, till at length I made a bargain with a peasant from Bachat to change with me, he taking my fine beast on the chance of curing him, and giving me this wretched animal in his stead, to enable me to go on my way. It is not, however, an hour since he brought the beast in. So you see, Sir, I have lost no time."