It was just as the descending moon seemed to be resting on the summits
of the mountains that the priest and his guest quitted the quiet little
house by way of the garden. The night which covered the retreat of the
fugitives was pitch dark. Nobody but one who had been accustomed to that
district for years and knew all its ins and outs could have found a path
through those wooded gorges.
By the morning light the fugitives perceived the little posting station
on the high road. There the priest exchanged clothes with Gerzson and
resumed his clerical attire.
"Nothing can detain us now," said the priest, "you can procure post
horses here and return home, but I go in an opposite direction."
"Whither?"
"The world is wide. Do not trouble yourself about me. In a month's time
we shall meet again."
"Where?"
"At this very place."
The priest hastily quitted Gerzson and returned towards the forest,
while the latter went on to the little town, where he speedily got post
horses.
When now he found himself sitting all safe and sound, in the carriage,
it suddenly struck him how remarkably odd it was that he and the parson
should have actually fled away from a non-existent danger. How they
would laugh at him from one end of the kingdom to the other! Suppose
Henrietta had been playing a practical joke upon him! But then, on the
other hand, Henrietta was not of that sort--so he consoled himself.
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