“I shall never go there,” replied Lucien.
“In any case, you will find my card on the mantelpiece in your brother’s room—do not forget the address.”
“I will promise you that should any event call me to the Continent you shall have my first visit.”
“Very well, that is agreed.”
We shook hands once again and parted; but I noticed, so long as he could see me, he followed me with his eyes.
All was quiet in the village, although, of course, there was the usual agitation which follows the completion of a great public act; and as I went along the street I sought my friend Orlandi, who had never addressed a word to me, nor even thanked me; and so I passed the last house in the village, and entered the open country without having seen any one like him.
I thought he had entirely forgotten me, and under the circumstances I quite excused him, but before I got very far out of the village I perceived a man stride from the underwood, and place himself in the middle of the road. I recognized him at once as the man who in my great regard for appearances, and in my impatience, I had accused of ingratitude.
He was dressed in the same costume as he had appeared in the previous evening in the ruins of Vicentello.
When I was about twenty paces distant from him he took off his hat; while I spurred my horse so as not to keep Orlandi waiting.