Savin Barrau was naturally a soldier. As Catherine was a beautiful woman, so was Savin a distinguished-looking man. His regular-featured face wore an expression of hauteur and valor, as though he often had stood in the face of death. But upon his lips one could have fancied there lurked a smile both touching and tender. His handsome dark eyes brightened his face to an extraordinary degree. Brave and noble he seemed as he stood gazing upon the scene.
“Ah, ha,” said the vindictive Andoche, “I have brought trouble to our charming Madame Catherine with my remarks, I fear. Another time I shall hold my tongue.”
Savin approached, carrying his gun in his left hand. His dog Patachaud was still bounding at his side. A feeling of restlessness possessed the crowd, hitherto so joyous. A jealous glitter suddenly came into Barrau’s eyes. He could not disguise his disapproval of his wife’s frivolity.
Every one thought Catherine would discontinue the game and run to meet him. But no. Either bravado or the testy consciousness of her virtue led her to continue it. Firmin, who as yet had not perceived Barrau, darted after her with increased zest. The gamekeeper came forward with even tread.
“Ah, some game seems to be in progress,” said he as he halted.
His wife and Firmin now disappeared from view. A look of displeasure clouded Savin’s features. With a military gesture he rested his hand on his knee. The dog continuing to leap upon him, he shouted: “Down, Patachaud, down, sir!” a little rudely.
A profound silence enveloped the scene. Every one was impressed, for all knew the keeper’s mood. Why indeed should the coquettish Catherine so vex her brave husband? Presently she again came in sight. Merrily she went toward Savin, smiled up at him, and seizing his shoulders swung around him, without a thought of abandoning the game.
Certainly Savin’s look of displeasure should have warned her to desist, but that look she obstinately refused to see. Fortified by her husband’s tall figure, Catherine stood panting and laughing, while Firmin foolishly advanced toward her in pursuit.
At this juncture, the gamekeeper, impatiently tapping the ground with his foot, exclaimed: “Come, come! this is a little too bold.”
“Now for a storm,” murmured Andoche. “Firmin would have passed the time better by drinking a couple of glasses of beer with me.”