"A lady?" he exclaimed, surprised; "do you not know her?"
The servant stared stupidly without replying. How could he know her, when he had passed his life among the cattle and only went to Lancia on some market-day to buy or sell a cow? The count recollected this, and proceeded to inquire:
"No, she is very tall, Señor."
"Eyes very black and bright, pale colour? her gait graceful and elegant?"
And before the servant could answer these questions that he had not understood, he began running in the direction of the house with his heart beating with excitement at the presentiment that it was her.
"Where is she?" he cried, without ceasing running.
"In the courtyard by the garden door," shouted the boy in reply.
He arrived breathless at the courtyard, but before opening the door he stopped for an instant to check his presumption. How could he have thought of such a thing? What devil could have put it into his head?... Notwithstanding he could not dismiss the idea. It was she, it was she—he could not doubt the fact.
He raised the bolt of the large wooden door, painted green, and went in. The courtyard was large. Several outhouses for working purposes were built against the wall. Tied up to a roughly made wooden kennel was an enormous mastiff, who pulled at his chain as if he would break it in his attempts to get near his master.