"It is as though a whole world separated this peaceful valley from the agitation and uproar of Paris," said Mr. Jefferson to Calvert.
"Yet even here revolt has already left its mark," returned Calvert, pointing to the half-burnt ruins of a château just visible through an avenue of trees to the left.
In the early afternoon they came to Azay, and, passing quickly through the little village and out into the country again, they were soon at the entrance of the great park surrounding Azay-le-Roi. Calvert never forgot the look of the great avenue of rustling poplars and the exquisite grace of the château as he and Mr. Jefferson rode up to it on that September afternoon. A sunny stillness brooded over it; long shadows from the pointed turrets lay upon the fine white sand of the driveway and dipped along the gray walls of the château, which the hand of man had fretted with lace-like sculpture. In an angle of the courtyard two idle lackeys in scarlet liveries and powdered hair played with a little terrier. As Mr. Jefferson and Calvert approached, they ran forward, one taking the horses and the other opening the great entrance door for the two gentlemen and ushering them into the salon where a large company was amusing itself with cards, books, and music. The old Duchess and d'Azay, who was down from Versailles for a few days, could not welcome the gentlemen warmly enough, and even Adrienne seemed so pleased to see them again that, for the first time since beginning the journey, Calvert felt some of his misgivings quieted and dared to hope that his embassy might not be unsuccessful. He would have spoken to her that very evening, she was so gracious to him, but that the numerous company prevented any conversation alone. Not only did guests arrive for dinner, but there were several families from the neighboring chateaux staying at Azay-le-Roi, frightened thither by rumors of outbreaks among the peasantry and the approach of brigands.
"They cannot frighten me from Azay-le-Roi," says the Duchess, stoutly, to Mr. Jefferson. "If they burn my house, 'twill be over my head, and as for the brigands, I believe in them no more than in the alleged plot of the Queen to blow up the Assembly."
The talk was all of the tumults in Paris, the hasty decrees of the Assembly, and the agitation spreading over the provinces, and the evening would have passed gloomily enough had it not been for the intrepid old Duchess, who scouted all vague alarms, and for Adrienne, who turned them into ridicule, and who had never appeared to Calvert more sparkling and charming. It was not until the next morning that he could get a word with her alone. He found her walking slowly up and down an allée of elms, through the leaves of which the bright September sunshine sifted down. She nodded coolly to the young man who joined her. All her animation and gracious air of the evening before had disappeared, and Calvert could have cursed himself that he had come upon her in this capricious mood. But he would not put off saying what he had come so far to say, for all her changed manner, and, moreover, there would be no better time, for they were to set out for Tours again by noon.
"Madame," he said, after an instant's silence, during which they had paced slowly up and down together, "as you know, this is no farewell visit I have come to pay, since I do not leave France with Mr. Jefferson. I have come because I dared to love you," he went on, bluntly, and meeting the look of surprise, which Adrienne shot at him, squarely and steadily. They both stopped in their walk and regarded each other, the young girl blushing slightly as she looked at Calvert's pale face and met his steady gaze.
"I can make you no fine phrases. Indeed, I know no words either in your tongue or mine that can express the love I feel for you," he said, a little sadly.
"'Tis the first time I have ever known Mr. Calvert to be at a loss for French phrases," returned Adrienne, recovering from her momentary confusion and smiling mockingly at the young man. "You should have taken a lesson from Monsieur de Beaufort or Monsieur de St. Aulaire."
"No doubt they have had much experience which I have missed, and could teach me much. But I fear Beaufort could only teach me how to fail, and as for Monsieur de St. Aulaire, I have no time to go to England to find that gentleman in the retreat which he has so suddenly seen fit to seek." Madame de St. André blushed and bit her lip. "'Tis the first time I have ever told a woman I loved her," said Calvert, "and I would rather tell her in my own blunt fashion. If she loves me, she will know the things my heart tells her, but which my lips are too unskilled to translate."
"Ah, we women are too wise to try to divine unspoken things; we scarce dare believe what we are told," and the young girl laughed lightly.