‘Quite sufficient, sir,’ said I, bowing, and anxious to conclude a scene which for the first time had disturbed the harmony of our meetings. Slight as was the incident, its effects were yet visible in the disconcerted looks of the party, and I could see that more than one glance was directed towards me with an expression of coldness and distrust.
‘Here comes D’Egville at last,’ said one, throwing open the window to listen. The night was starlit, but dark, and the air calm and motionless. ‘I certainly heard a horses tread on the causeway.’
‘I hear distinctly the sound of several,’ cried Coigny; ‘and, if I mistake not much, so does Monsieur de Tiernay.’ This sudden allusion turned every eye towards me, as I stood still, suffering from the confusion of the late scene.
‘Yes; I hear the tramp of horses, and cavalry too, I should say, by their measured tread.’
‘There was a trumpet-call!’ cried Coigny; ‘what does that mean?’
‘It is the signal to take open order,’ said I, answering as if the question were addressed to myself. ‘It is a picket taking a reconnaissance.’
‘How do you know that, sir?’ said Gramont sternly.
‘Ay! how does he know that?’ cried several passionately, as they closed around me.
‘You must ask in another tone, messieurs,’ said I calmly, ‘if you expect to be answered.’
‘They mean to say, how do you happen to know the German trumpet-calls, Tiernay,’ said De Marsanne mildly, as he laid his hand on my arm.