‘He knows nothing then,’ thought the Marchioness.
‘But how is it I find you here?’ continued Theria; ‘so far from home, and alone?’
‘Alas! Camille, it is a sad story, and some day you shall know everything. I have been compelled to fly from Paris—from my creditors—to avoid a prison. The separation from my husband and children drove me to seek any excitement that would drown my wretchedness. I played deeply, and I am ruined.’
‘Are you pursued?’
‘I believe the authorities are close upon my track. I only left Paris the evening before last. Your old friend Philippe Glazer came with me to Offemont, and from that place I have travelled alone.’
‘I think you might have chosen a better resting-place,’ said Theria. ‘This is the principal hotel, and the first to which the police would come. I shall wait here until my horse is rested, and then push on to-night, if possible, to Dinant; for I must be at Liége to-morrow. Will you accompany me?’
‘Again upon the road!’ murmured his companion in accents of despair. ‘My strength has nearly deserted me!’
‘It will be safer for you, if things are as you state,’ replied Camille. ‘You will have passed the frontier, and be three leagues nearer the termination of your journey. We will sup together if you please, Marie, and talk it over; I shall not start for an hour yet. Mass! how the wind is shrieking along the market-place!’
‘I will go with you,’ said Marie, after a little deliberation. ‘I could not bear to be left here now, wretched and utterly deserted as I am. The sight of you has recalled so many old feelings, that——’
‘Understand me, Marie,’ interrupted Camille, ‘the past must be never again alluded to between us. I have told you my position, and if we meet, it can only be as friends.’