Unbidden, a picture of her came before me, that seemed strangely out of place.
"She was very beautiful," I said.
She sighed.
"And very proud," said Mademoiselle.
"Yes, very proud. Why did she call him a thief, Monsieur?"
But I did not answer.
"You are certain your father is coming?" she asked finally.
"I think there is no doubt," I told her. "I have seen him ride,
Mademoiselle. It would take more than a dozen men to lay hands on him.
They should have known better than let him leave the house. Listen,
Mademoiselle! I believe you can hear him now."
My ears were quicker in those days. For a minute we listened in silence, and then on the wind I heard more distinctly still the regular thud of a galloping horse. So he was coming, as I knew he would. I knew he would be methodical and accurate.
"Yes, Mademoiselle," I continued, "my father has many accomplishments, but this time even he may be surprised. Who knows, Mademoiselle? Pray step back inside the doorway until I call you."