"You are very kind," she murmured, "but indeed, indeed, there is no cause for anxiety. Wrapped in my cloak I shall be quite safe, and the passers-by will be too busy to think of molesting me."
"Is my company, then, so distasteful to you, that you are so anxious to rid yourself of me?"
She felt her eyes filling with tears, but still she contrived to say firmly: "It were best that I went alone."
"As you will," he rejoined coldly.
He stood aside, and as she moved away from him, he called loudly: "Mathurin!"
"Here, M. le Maréchal," came from a distant corner of the quadrangle, and hurrying footsteps drew quickly near in answer to the master's call. Fernande, the while, busied herself with her cloak.
"Mathurin," said de Maurel curtly, as soon as the overseer was in sight. "Detail two of the men whom you can best trust—Henri Gresset and Michel Picart, if you can spare them—to escort Mademoiselle de Courson back to the château."
"Very good, M. le Maréchal," replied Mathurin.
"Tell them to await Mademoiselle at the postern gate."
"It shall be done, M. le Maréchal."