"Excellent man!" replied Rudolph, cordially pressing his hand.
"I am ready. I did not wish to pass through the servants' lines all in tears, like a Magadalen. But what shall I say?"
"Yes, what shall he say?" demanded the prince from Clémence.
"That M. Ruldolph wishes to see her—nothing more, it seems to me."
"Undoubtedly. Say that M. Rudolph wishes to see her, nothing more. Come, go—go."
"It is certainly the very best thing that can be said to her," answered the squire. "I will merely say that M. Rudolph wishes to see her; that will not cause her to conjecture anything—to foresee anything: it is the most reasonable way, truly."
But Sir Walter did not stir.
"Sir Walter," said Clémence, smiling, "you are afraid."
"It is true, my lady; in spite of my six-foot stature and my rough exterior, I am still under the influence of violent emotions."
"My friend, take care," said Rudolph; "wait a moment longer, if you are not sure of your self-possession."