Consequently he walked right up to the other, in whom, spite of the uniform, he only saw still the poacher and farm boy of Haramont.
"Oh, you here, Pitou," said he: "delighted to meet you to thank you for all the services you have done us."
"My lord viscount, I did all for Miss Catherine alone," returned the young man, in a firm voice though all his frame thrilled.
"That was all well up to your knowing that I loved her; then, I was bound to take my share in the gratitude and as you must have gone to some outlay, say for the letters transmitted to her——"
He clapped his hand to his pocket to prick Pitou's conscience. But the other stopped him, saying, with the dignity sometimes astonishing to appear in him:
"My lord, I do services when I can but not for pay. Besides, I repeat, these were for Miss Catherine solely. She is my friend; if she believes she is in any way indebted to me, she will regulate the account. But you, my lord, owe me nothing; for I did all for her, and not a stroke for you. So you have to offer me nothing."
These words, but especially the tone, struck the hearer; perhaps it was only then that he noticed that the speaker was dressed as a captain in the new army.
"Excuse me, Captain Pitou," said Isidore, slightly bowing: "I do owe you something, and that is my thanks, and I offer you my hand; I hope you will do me the pleasure of accepting one and the honor of accepting the other."
There was such grandeur in the speech and the gesture in company with it, that vanquished Pitou held out his hand and with the fingers' ends touched Isidore's.
At this juncture Countess Charny appeared on the threshold.