“Then no doubt you have already devised a way of escape from this tower. It is only necessary for us to depart whenever we are ready.”
“No, mademoiselle,” I said; “I see no way of escape at present; but I trust my star.”
“Your star?”
“Yes; it has never yet failed me. To-day—or rather yesterday—after apparently plunging me into the depths of an abyss it drew me forth and led me straight to you.”
“And to this trap.”
“Ah, mademoiselle; beside the other, that does not matter!”
She turned from me with a gesture of impatience.
“Your mind travels always in a circle.”
“Of which you are the centre, mademoiselle. What other figure could my mind describe, revolving as it does about you?”
“You have an answer always ready,” she retorted; “nevertheless I think your star would have done better by you had it permitted you to continue your journey to Poitiers unmolested. You would have arrived there with a free heart, ready to fulfil your oath to your father; you would have had no temptation to forget your honor; your life would have been calm and happy.”