He stopped, waited.
317“Of a gentleman, I reckon you’d say,” he interrupted uneasily. “Maybe not, but a ruffian’s got his instincts too. When he’s afraid of hurting someone, he hides himself.”
“I was mistaken,” she said gravely, with that quaintest inflection of the English he had ever heard, “yes, mistaken. Hé mais–but it is just that the complaint. You hurt more by not speaking.”
“But there’s nothing to say,” he faltered. “I’m just going to Old Tige’s–to Dupin’s camp, and get him to come here for you.”
“Monsieur, monsieur, you fight for your captives only–only to give them up?”
“That’s not the question. You can overtake the Empress yet. Dupin will––”
“But it is not that I want to overtake empresses at all. I–Berthe, would you mind carrying back these supper things?–I,” she continued, when they were alone, “have no wish to go back to Paris. I shall return to the City.”
Again the liaison with Maximilian, he thought bitterly. And Charlotte away! It was infamous. However, he had no right to be concerned.
“Very well,” he said, “then Dupin can take you to the City, or wherever you wish.”
“Ma foi, what trouble to be rid of your prisoners, monsieur, and after two battles too!”