Let us hasten to say here, in order that we may not misrepresent our hero's character, that the consciousness of his mistake did not make him a whit more courageous, and it never for an instant occurred to him to go frankly to the marquis and ask for hospitality,--a desire for which had been one of the determining motives of his flight.
Meantime the soldiers had arrived, and Michel, attracted by the noise to the narrow casement of his turret-chamber, saw the Demoiselles de Souday, their father, the general, and his officers, passing and repassing before the brilliantly lighted windows of the main building. It was then that, seeing Rosine in the courtyard beneath, he asked, with all the modesty of his character, for a bit of bread, and declared himself hungry.
Hearing, soon after, a light step apparently approaching his room, he began to feel a lively satisfaction under two heads: first, he was likely to get something to eat; and next, he should probably hear news of Mary.
"Is that you, Rosine?" he asked, when he heard a hand endeavoring to open the door.
"No, it is not Rosine; it is I, Monsieur Michel," said a voice.
Michel recognized it as Mary's voice; but he could not believe his ears. The voice continued:--
"Yes, I,--I, who am very angry with you!"
As the tone of the voice was not in keeping with the words, Michel was less alarmed than he might have been.
"Mademoiselle Mary!" he cried; "Mademoiselle Mary! Good heavens!"
He leaned against the wall to keep himself from falling. Meanwhile the young girl had opened the door.