“It is true,” I said; “I was thoughtless,” and we walked more slowly until the two in front of us could be scarcely discerned.
“Now tell me,” said my companion, with a little gesture of command, “how did you leave the Bastille, monsieur?”
“We opened seven doors, lowered three drawbridges, and came out very easily, mademoiselle,” I answered.
“You shall not evade me,” she cried. “Tell me about it. I have already heard something of your exploits since you came to Paris, M. de Brancas,” she added, “and am anxious to hear more.”
I trembled with joy at the thought that I had, perhaps, already awakened some interest in the heart of this beautiful creature, and rapidly outlined our method of escape.
“It was magnificent!” she cried, as I finished. “Those are the kind of deeds I love to hear about,” and her sparkling eyes looked into mine. I felt that I was losing my self-control, and my heart was beating wildly.
“I did not guess the happiness that awaited me here,” I said, “nor have I ever dreamed of loveliness such as yours, mademoiselle.”
“It is evident that you have seen little of Paris, monsieur,” she retorted, glancing at me and smiling archly.
“I wish to see no more,” I cried. “Ah, mademoiselle, believe me, I may be but a simple and uncultured boor, but I mean to win for myself a place in your heart if it be possible.”
She glanced at me again, I dared think not unkindly, and I felt her hand fluttering on my arm.