And he thought of the poor prisoner shut up in the Rue St. Antoine.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE OLD MAN.
Two hours after they reached the castle. Bussy had been debating within himself whether or not to confide to his friends what he knew about Diana. But there was much that he could tell to no one, and he feared their questions, and besides, he wished to enter Méridor as a stranger.
Madame de St. Luc was surprised, when the report sounded his horn to announce a visit, that Diana did not run as usual to meet them, but instead of her appeared an old man, bent and leaning on a stick, and his white hair flying in the wind. He crossed the drawbridge, followed by two great dogs, and when he drew quite near, said in a feeble voice,—
“Who is there, and who does a poor old man the honor to visit him?”
“It is I, Seigneur Augustin!” cried the laughing voice of the young woman.
But the baron, raising his head slowly, said, “You? I do not see. Who is it?”
“Oh, mon Dieu!” cried Jeanne, “do you not know me? It is true, my disguise——”