"Not to be, as you said just now, one of you."
"What prevents it?" said Mary, holding out her hand to him.
The young man darted on that hand and kissed it in a passion of love and gratitude.
"Oh! yes, yes, yes," he murmured, so low that Mary alone could hear him; "for you, mademoiselle, and with you."
Mary's hand was roughly torn from his grasp by a sudden movement of her horse. Bertha, in touching hers, had struck that of her sister on the flank. Horses and riders, starting at a gallop, were soon lost like shadows in the darkness.
The young man stood motionless in the roadway.
"Adieu!" cried Bertha.
"Au revoir!" cried Mary.
"Yes, yes, yes," he said, stretching his arms toward their vanishing figures; "yes, au revoir! au revoir!"
The two girls continued their way without uttering a word, until they reached the castle gate, and there Bertha said, abruptly:--