Once more he attempted to go to her; once more Gilbert Bidaud waved him off, and stepped before him.
"If he touches her, if he follows her, arrest him. I give you authority."
Basil fell back. Annette's mournful eyes were fixed upon his face in dumb despair.
"Hurry in--hurry in," said Gilbert Bidaud in a harsh tone.
They passed into the house, and Basil was left alone. It was a favourite trick of his to put his thoughts into unspoken words; he had encouraged the habit, finding it led to clearness and generally, when he was in doubt, to some definite issue. In his disturbed mood he found this a suitable time for this mental indulgence. Something should be done, clearly; but what?
"Poor Annette!" he thought. "Poor child! What will now become of her? What will be her future? That brute--he is no less--who boasts so sardonically that he intends to teach her principles, will poison her mind against me. If I do not see her again she will grow to hate me. It is dreadful to think of. She has none but kind thoughts of me now; and though in a short time we may be parted for ever, and all chance of ever seeing her again will be lost, I should dearly like to feel that if she thinks of me in the future it will be with gentleness and affection. I have done nothing to forfeit her affection, except that I am unfortunate.
"My bright dreams are suddenly snapped. A few short hours have changed happiness to woe. Still--still I have committed no wrong. Of that I am sure, and it is a comfort--but poor Annette! If I could assure her that I am not to blame, I could bear it. She would believe me, and I could go on my way with a less sorrowful heart.
"That brute will try his hardest to prevent my seeing her. The blow that has fallen upon her may prostrate her. She may die--it is horrible, horrible! If that should happen, Gilbert Bidaud will come into possession of everything. Is that the end to which he will work? He is capable of it, capable of any villainy. Can I do nothing to save her?
"I am powerless. I have no claim upon her; I have no right to be here. But I will not go away without seeing, without speaking to her. If he takes her from this place, which is likely enough, I will follow them. She must not, she must not be left to the tender mercies of that jackal.
"All very fine to talk, Basil. You will follow them? Why, man, you must live. It is a necessity. And to live you must work. How much money have you in your pocket to commence the fight of existence with?--to say nothing of the grand things you are going to do for sweet Annette.