And for the first time he clasped her in his arms and pressed his lips to her pallid cheek.
“Now adieu,” he said once more. “Do not lose a moment. Adieu!”
CHAPTER XXIX
The prospect of capturing Lacheneur, the chief conspirator, excited the Marquis de Courtornieu so much that he had not been able to tear himself away from the citadel to return home to his dinner.
Remaining near the entrance of the dark corridor leading to Chanlouineau’s cell, he watched Marie-Anne depart; but as he saw her go out into the twilight with a quick, alert step, he felt a sudden doubt of Chanlouineau’s sincerity.
“Can it be that this miserable peasant has deceived me?” he thought.
So strong was this suspicion that he hastened after her, determined to question her—to ascertain the truth—to arrest her, if necessary.
But he no longer possessed the agility of youth, and when he reached the gateway the guard told him that Mlle. Lacheneur had already passed out. He rushed out after her, looked about on every side, but could see no trace of her. He re-entered the citadel, furious with himself for his own credulity.
“Still, I can visit Chanlouineau,” thought he, “and to-morrow will be time enough to summon this creature and question her.”