“I love you,” she said simply.
He knelt there staring at her, the firelight showing, on his sad and weary features, an expression that was almost awe. Then he made a movement and caught her to him.
“I said you were my oriflamme. I shall fight to the last as long as I have the means, and with how much more courage if you give me leave to die! . . . But I shall not let them attack La Vergne, though you, I know, would not fear it.”
“Nor would the others,” she answered. “Then will you not make it your headquarters?”
“I do not know yet. When Brune’s advance begins . . . But though I do not intend to stand a siege here, I fear I must send you and the other ladies away.”
Valentine said nothing, but a little shiver went through her in her turn.
“It is true,” said Gaston, feeling it, “that Mme de la Vergne has already refused to go. And you, my darling——”
“You must do as you think best,” she said again. She would not give open utterance to the wild prayer that was ringing through her.
He sighed, and loosing his hold of her hands, got to his feet, drawing her up with him.
“Gaston, you will sleep now?”