Although only an hour after the sun set, the windows were barred and shuttered for the night, and all within seemingly had retired to rest. The Count repeated his summons louder; and at last the sounds of heavy sabots were heard approaching the door. It was opened at length, and a sturdy-looking peasant woman, in the long-eared cap and woollen jacket of the country, asked what we wanted.
“Don't you know me, Lisette?” said the Count. “How is madame?”
The brown cheeks of the woman became suddenly pale, and she had to grasp the door for support before she could speak.
“Eh heu!” said he, accosting her familiarly in the patois of the land, “what is it? what has happened here?”
The woman looked at me and then at him, as though to say that she desired to speak to him apart. I understood the glance, and fell back to a little distance, occupying myself with my horse, ungirthing the saddle, and so on. The few minutes thus employed were passed in close whispering by the others, at the end of which the Count said aloud,—
“Well, who is to look after the beasts? Is Louis not here?”
“He was at Dinant, but would return presently.”
“Be it so,” said the Count; “we 'll stable them ourselves. Meanwhile, Lisette, prepare something for our supper.—Lisette has not her equal for an omelet,” said he to me, “and when the Meuse yields us fresh trout, you 'll acknowledge that her skill will not discredit them.”
The woman's face, as he spoke these words in an easy, jocular tone, was actually ghastly. It seemed as if she were contending against some sickening sensation that was over-powering her, for her eyes lost all expression, and her ruddy lips grew livid. The only answer was a brief nod of her head as she turned away and re-entered the house. I watched the Count narrowly as we busied ourselves about our horses, but nothing could be possibly more calm, and to all seeming unconcerned, than his bearing and manner. The few words he spoke were in reference to objects around us, and uttered with careless ease.
When we entered the cottage we found Lisette had already spread a cloth, and was making preparations for our supper; and Ysaffich, with the readiness of an old campaigner, proceeded to aid her in these details. At last she left the room, and, looking after her for a second or two in silence, he said compassionately,—