“Fortunately I had my horse in hand,” Rixende riposted dryly. “’Twas I who might have been killed.”
But this last doleful remark of hers Bertrand did not hear. He was at the moment engaged in fastening his horse’s bridle to a convenient tree, for at sound of Nicolette’s name he had jumped out of the saddle. Nicolette! Poor little Nicolette hurt! He must know, he must know at once. Just for the next few seconds he forgot Rixende, yes! forgot her! and sped across the road and through the orange-grove in the direction of that distant, agitated group, in the midst of which he feared to find poor little Nicolette mangled and bleeding.
Rixende called peremptorily after him. She thought Bertrand indifferent to the danger which she had run, and indifference was a manlike condition which she could not tolerate.
“Bertrand,” she called, “Bertrand, come back.”
But he did not hear her, which further exasperated her nerves. She turned to the old curé who was standing by rather uncomfortably, longing for an excuse to go and see how Nicolette was faring.
“M. le Curé,” Rixende said tartly, “I pray you tell M. le Comte that my nerves are on edge, and that I must return home immediately. If he’ll not accompany me, then must I go alone.”
“At your service, mademoiselle,” the old priest responded readily enough, and picked up his soutane ready to follow M. le Comte through the grove. For the moment he had disappeared, but a few seconds later the group of harvesters parted and disclosed Bertrand standing beside Nicolette.
“Nicolette!” Bertrand had exclaimed as soon as he saw her. He felt immensely relieved to find that she was not hurt, but at sight of her he suddenly felt shy and awkward; he who was accustomed to meet the grandest and most beautiful ladies of the Court at Versailles.
“Why,” he went on with a nervous little laugh, “how you have grown.”
Nicolette looked a little pale, which was no wonder, seeing what a fright she had had: but at sight of Bertrand a deep glow ran right up her cheeks, and tinged even her round young throat down to her shoulders under the transparent fichu. The boys and girls who had been crowding round her fell back respectfully as M. le Comte approached, and even Ameyric stood aside, only Margaï and Jaume Deydier remained beside Nicolette.