Driscoll said no more, but picked out two beasts and bound some cushioned sacking on their backs for saddles. Then with a brisk hearty word, he swept Berthe up on the first one.
“Next,” he said, turning to Jacqueline.
But the marchioness drew back. Next–after her maid! It nettled her that this country boy, or any other, could not 101recognize in her that indefinable something which is supposed to distinguish quality.
“What’s the matter, now?” he asked. “Quick, please, I’m in a hurry.”
“It’s too preposterous. I’ll not!”
“You will,” he said quietly.
Her gray eyes deepened to blue with amazement. She stood stock still, haughtily daring him. She even lifted her arms a little, leaving the girlish waist defenseless. Her slender figure was temptation, the pretty ducal fury was only added zest. Up among the rocks Driscoll had found himself whispering, “She’s game, that little girl!” But at the same time he had remembered Rodrigo’s innuendo, the linking of her name with Maximilian’s. She was so brave, and so headstrong, so lovably headstrong, and her beauty was so fresh and soft! Yet he could not but think of that taint in what nature had made so pure. Of a sudden there was a something wrong, something ugly and hideously wrong in life. And the country boy, the trooper, the man of blood-letting, what you will, was filled with helpless rage against it; and next against himself, because the girlish waist could thrill him so. “A silly little butterfly,” he argued inwardly. Before, he had been unaware of his own indifference. But now he angrily tried to summon it back. He set his mind on their situation, on what it exacted. It exacted haste, simple, impersonal haste. And keeping his mind on just that, he caught her up.
“Oh, you boor!” she cried, pushing at him.
His jaw hardened. His will was well nigh superhuman, for he battled against two furious little hands, against the dimple and the patch so near his lips, against the fragrance of her hair, against the subtle warmth of his burden.
“No, no!” she panted. “Monsieur, do you hear me? I am not to be carried!”