"I do not know. Oh, Aymar, I cannot blame myself enough!"
"There is no need to blame yourself at all. It will be all over the place in a day or two. I have just had a terrible scene with Eveno. He had heard it in the village, too; and he was nearly demented. He wanted to go off and do murder."
"He will not, I hope?" exclaimed Laurent, startled.
"Not now. Besides, he does not know, since I would not tell him, whom to murder. Ninety men is rather a large order, single-handed." He gave a weary little laugh, and went to the door. "Really, I do not know which is more difficult to handle, the rebel or the fanatically faithful!"
For his friend's sake at least Laurent could not but be glad when he learnt later that he had not succeeded in getting speech with his cousin. She had gone to her room, whence she did not appear again that evening. She had a bad headache, it seemed. But the Vicomtesse was in great spirits at supper, and entertained Laurent with some witty but rather doubtful stories. "I wonder if she knows what heartache is," thought the young man . . . and then remembered her guillotined sons.
(3)
"I think that Mme la Comtesse has gone to the orchard for some flowers," said old Célestin next morning in answer to his young master's enquiry. And he added, looking at him affectionately, "It is good to see you about again, Monsieur Aymar!"
So, wishing that she were anywhere but in the apple-orchard, Aymar went towards it in the haze of heat which brooded over everything, and opened the gate, for he could not vault gates nowadays. And when he was among the trees he saw why Avoye should have come here for flowers, for where the grass had been left long it was starred with moon-daisies. Yet for a moment, with relief, he thought that she was not in the orchard at all. Then he saw her, an empty basket beside her, crouched at the foot of an apple tree, her head against the trunk, in the most forlorn attitude imaginable. He quickened his steps. "Avoye, what is the matter? Are you ill, my dear? Can I——"
On that he saw that she was crying as if her heart would break. He went down on one knee beside her. "Avoye, my darling . . ."
She turned to him instantly, and clung to him like a child. "It is . . . what M. de Courtomer told me yesterday. . . . I cried nearly all night . . . now again . . . Aymar, Aymar, I can't bear it for you!"