She had spoken a falsehood. In what end?
He was answered by seeing her thrash her horse into the trot in order to rejoin a horseman who rode to meet her with as much eagerness as she showed on her part.
On coming nearer, as the pair halted at meeting, Pitou recognized by his elegant form and stylish dress the neighboring lord, Isidore Charny. He was brother of the Count of Charny, lieutenant of the Royal Lifeguards, and accredited as favorite of the Queen.
Pitou knew him well and lately from having seen him at the village dances where Catherine chose him for partner.
Dropping to the ground in the brush and creeping up like a viper, he heard the couple.
“You are late to-day, Master Isidore,” began Catherine.
“To-day?” thought the eavesdropper; “it appears that he has been punctual on other meetings.”
“It is not my fault, my darling Kate,” replied the young noble. “A letter from my brother delayed me, to which I had to reply by the bearer. But fear nothing, I shall be more exact another time.”
Catherine smiled and Isidore pressed her hand so tenderly that Pitou felt upon thorns.
“Fresh news from Paris?” she asked. “So have I. Did you not say that when something alike happens to two persons, it is called sympathy?”