“My friend,” said the count, “your sword was broken in my house; let me replace it with another.” He took off the wall a magnificent rapier with a chiselled hilt which he placed in the officer’s sheath.
“And you?”
“I have no need of a weapon,” he continued, “my defense is at Trianon and my defender will be yourself when your sister shall have spoken.”
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE GUILTY ONE.
DRIVEN by Fritz, the count’s excellent team covered the ground swiftly.
Philip was silent if not patient during the ride, for he felt that he was not the superior power which could persuade or domineer over this wonderful man.
When they had passed the palace gates and were near the chapel, he stopped.
“A last word, my lord,” he said; “I do not know what question you were to put to my sister; at least, spare her the incidents of the horrible scene passing during her unconsciousness. Spare the purity of the soul since the reverse befell the virginity of the body.”
“Captain,” replied Balsamo, “mark this well. I never came into these gardens farther than the hedges you see yonder fronting the line of buildings where your sister is lodged. As for the scene which you fear the effect of on her mind, the effect will be for yourself alone, and on a sleeping person; for I will at the present send your sister into the mesmeric sleep.”
He made a halt folding his arms and turning towards the house where Andrea dwelt, he stood quiet for a space, frowning, with an expression of will strong on his face.