I took his hand in mine and pressed it. I could find no blame for him in my heart.
“Adieu, Monsieur,” I said, “and again thanks for your kindness.”
“I mean to devote my life to it,” he said simply, “so much of my life as is left to me,” and he was gone almost before the words were spoken.
I lay for long looking at the door, pondering on his story. What a vengeance! To play traitor to a man for long years—to seem his friend and yet to hate him—and then, at the end, to lay the treachery bare before him! I understood now, as M. le Comte had done, that look of terror in Roquefort’s eyes, and found it in my heart to pity him.
CHAPTER XVIII
LIGHT
The day passed without further incident. I took a turn about the room on Fronsac’s arm and found that my strength was fast returning. I ate the food that he brought me, and lay staring at the ceiling till drowsiness overtook me. Yet, despite myself, I was not content. More than once I caught myself listening for I know not what—a light step in the corridor, the rustle of a dress, the sound of a voice—expecting the door to open and show Claire there. What a fool I was! What time had she for me? She was busy with the affairs of her duchy—a great lady!
Night came at last, and darkness, bringing sleep with it. Dawn found me strong, refreshed. I arose and walked about the room, and though my legs still trembled somewhat, I was certain that, once on horseback, I should be quite myself. I was determined to leave Marleon as soon as might be—a horror of the place possessed me.
Fronsac found me dressed, and I lost no time in announcing my wish to set out with him for Cadillac.
“But you are not strong enough,” he urged. “Let us wait. There is no cause for haste.”
“If Mademoiselle Valérie heard you say that!” I laughed. “I can see her awaiting you in that arbor by the river’s edge.”