“So?” he said, with a smile.
“Yes, they are plotting against you; they will follow you. M. Bayard will be discovered if you wait.”
“Who will do this?”
Alaine was silent for a moment, then she raised her truthful eyes. “I overheard that one in there talking to Papa Louis. He, dear man, does not understand, or at least he is, you perceive, upon the other side, and—and—— Oh, monsieur, you will keep my secret as I do yours? You will not inform?”
“I should be base to do such a thing when I have been sheltered and cared for as a son or a brother. No, I could not do other than keep your secret, and again I would defend any one of this family if my opportunity came. I will go at once if it will please you.”
“Your horse is in the stable; I will help you to get him. I wish you were altogether strong, monsieur.”
“I am well enough; there is nothing to fear. I will not say which road I take lest your good conscience trouble you if you are asked. We must meet again; I go with regret. May I kiss your hand?”
Alaine with a blush extended her little brown fingers. He pressed them fervently, raised them to his lips and murmured, “We meet again; yes, we meet again.”
“Adieu, monsieur,” Alaine whispered, her eyes dropping before his gaze. “You—you are not an ox nor a stupid,” she laughed, “though that one in there does call you so.”
He laughed. “I thank you, gracious little lady; I cannot find words to say what you are; it would take a life in which to find words to praise you as I ought.”