"Heavens!" said Marguerite, in a low tone, to her friend, "Monsieur de la Mole!"
"That handsome, pale young man?" exclaimed the duchess, unable to repress her first impression.
"Yes, yes; the very one who nearly upset your Piedmontese."
"Oh," said the duchess, "something terrible will happen! they look at each other—recollect each other!"
Coconnas had indeed recognized La Mole, and in his surprise dropped his bridle, for he believed he had killed his old companion, or at least put him hors de combat for some time. La Mole had also recognized Coconnas, and he felt a fire mount up into his face. For some seconds, which sufficed for the expression of all the sentiments these two men harbored, they gazed at each other in a way which made the two women shudder.
After which, La Mole, having looked about him, and doubtless seeing that the place was ill chosen for an explanation, spurred his horse and rejoined the Duc d'Alençon. Coconnas remained stationary for a moment, twisting his mustache until the point almost entered his eye; then seeing La Mole dash off without a word, he did the same.
"Ah, ha!" said Marguerite, with pain and contempt, "so I was not mistaken—it is really too much;" and she bit her lips till the blood came.
"He is very handsome," added the Duchesse de Nevers, with commiseration.
Just at this moment the Duc d'Alençon reached his place behind the King and the queen mother, so that his suite, in following him, were obliged to pass before Marguerite and the Duchesse de Nevers. La Mole, as he rode before the two princesses, raised his hat, saluted the queen, and, bowing to his horse's neck, remained uncovered until her majesty should honor him with a look.
But Marguerite turned her head aside disdainfully.