O! by no means, replied the Marquis; she interests me if possible, more than ever; so much, indeed, that I cannot have her too closely guarded; and I therefore beg, La Motte, that you will suffer nobody to attend her but when you can observe them yourself. Is the room where she is confined sufficiently secure? La Motte assured him it was; but at the same time expressed his wish that she was removed to the villa. If by any means, said he, she should contrive to escape, I know what I must expect from your displeasure; and this reflection keeps my mind in continual anxiety.
This removal cannot be at present, said the Marquis; she is safer here, and you do wrong to disturb yourself with any apprehension of her escape, if her chamber is so secure as you represent it.
I can have no motive for deceiving you, my Lord, in this point.
I do not suspect you of any, said the Marquis; guard her carefully, and trust me she will not escape. I can rely upon my valet, and if you wish it he shall remain here. La Motte thought there could be no occasion for him, and it was agreed that the man should go home.
The Marquis, after remaining about half an hour in conversation with La Motte, left the abbey; and Adeline saw him depart with a mixture of surprise and thankfulness that almost overcame her. She had waited in momentary expectation of being summoned to appear, and had been endeavouring to arm herself with resolution to support his presence. She had listened to every voice that sounded from below; and at every step that crossed the passage her heart had palpitated with dread, lest it should be La Motte coming to lead her to the Marquis. This state of suffering had been prolonged almost beyond her power of enduring it, when she heard voices under her window, and rising, saw the Marquis ride away. After giving way to the joy and thankfulness that swelled her heart, she endeavoured to account for this circumstance, which, considering what had passed, was certainly very strange. It appeared, indeed, wholly inexplicable; and after much fruitless inquiry, she quitted the subject, endeavouring to persuade herself that it could only portend good.
The time of La Motte's usual visitation now drew near, and Adeline expected it in the trembling hope of hearing that the Marquis had ceased his persecution; but he was, as usual, sullen and silent, and it was not till he was about to quit the room that Adeline had the courage to inquire when the Marquis was expected again. La Motte, opening the door to depart, replied, on the following day; and Adeline, whom fear and delicacy embarrassed, saw she could obtain no intelligence of Theodore but by a direct question; she looked earnestly, as if she would have spoke, and he stopped; but she blushed and was still silent, till upon his again attempting to leave the room she faintly called him back.
I would ask, said she, after that unfortunate chevalier who has incurred the resentment of the Marquis, by endeavouring to serve me: Has the Marquis mentioned him?
He has, replied La Motte; and your indifference towards the Marquis is now fully explained.
Since I must feel resentment towards those who injure me, said Adeline, I may surely be allowed to be grateful towards those who serve me. Had the Marquis deserved my esteem, he would probably have possessed it.
Well, well, said La Motte, this young hero, who it seems has been brave enough to lift his arm against his Colonel, is taken care of, and I doubt not will soon be sensible of the value of his quixotism.—Indignation, grief, and fear, struggled in the bosom of Adeline; she disdained to give La Motte an opportunity of again pronouncing the name of Theodore; yet the uncertainty under which she laboured, urged her to inquire whether the Marquis had heard of him since he left Caux. Yes, said La Motte, he has been safely carried to his regiment, where he is confined till the Marquis can attend to appear against him.