“Nine o’clock, when we have dined.”
“We are to get there in the dark, then?”
“What reason is there against that?” he asked, smiling.
“None,” said I; and I went to pack up my bag.
In my room I chanced to find a femme-de-chambre. To her I put a question or two as to the gentry of the neighborhood. She rattled me off a few distinguished names, and ended:
“The duke of Saint-Maclou has also a small château.”
“Is he there now?” I asked.
“The duchess only, sir,” she answered. “Ah, they tell wonderful stories of her!”
“Do they? Pray, of what kind?”
“Oh, not to her harm, sir; or, at least, not exactly, though to simple country-folk—”