“We have the tower!” cried madame. “We will defend ourselves!”
“The tower was not built to withstand artillery,” her husband pointed out; “and even if the Republicans have no cannon they need only camp about it and bide their time to starve you into surrender, since you could expect no aid from any quarter.”
“But to leave the château—to abandon it to pillage—oh, I could never endure it!”
“Better that than to lose it and our lives together. Yes, decidedly, you must set out to-morrow——”
“To-morrow!” echoed madame, in despairing tones.
“M. de Tavernay will accompany you as far as Poitiers. At Poitiers, Mlle. de Chambray——”
“Charlotte goes with me to Italy, do you not, my dear? It was arranged, you know, that you should remain with me.”
“I do not know, madame,” Charlotte stammered, turning very red. “I—I think perhaps I would better stop at Chambray.”
For some reason which I could not fathom both monsieur and madame burst into a peal of laughter, while my companion turned an even deeper crimson.
“As you will,” said her hostess when she had taken breath. “I myself think that you might do worse, happy as I would be to have you with me.”