"Her face will be a study when I tell her."
"The splendor of it!" said she.
"And the surprise," I added, laughing.
"Ah, m'sieur, she will play her part well. She is clever. That moment when the true love comes and claims her it is the sweetest in a woman's life."
A thought came flying through my brain with the sting of an arrow.
"She must not be deceived. I have not any noble blood in me. I am only the son of a soldier-farmer, and have my fortune to make," said I, quickly.
"That is only a little folly," she answered, laughing. "Whether you be rich or poor, prince or peasant, she cares not a snap of her finger. Ciel! is she not a republican, has she not money enough?"
"Nevertheless, I beg you to say, in your letter, that I have nothing but my sword and my honor."
As we rode along I noted in my book the place and time we were to meet the captives. The marquis joined us at the Hermitage, where a stable-boy watered our horses. Three servants were still there, the others being now in the count's service.
If any place give me a day's happiness it is dear to me, and the where I find love is forever sacred. I like to stand where I stood thinking of it, and there I see that those dear moments are as much a part of me as of history. So while Therese and the marquis got off their horses for a little parley with the gardener, I cantered up the north trail to where I sat awhile that delightful summer day with Louise. The grotto had now a lattice roofing of bare branches. Leaves, as red as her blush, as golden as my memories, came rattling through it, falling with a faint rustle. The big woods were as a gloomy and deserted mansion, with the lonely cry of the wind above and a ghostly rustle within where had been love and song and laughter and all delight.