"When—when you rode to Varenac——"
"I went as its Marquis, to cry 'Long live the King.'"
"And yet——"
"I never reached Varenac."
"You—turned back?"
How her eyes accused him.
"Cécile! Cécile! Yet I deserve it. No, I did not turn back. I met my sister——"
"She has told me all that, and how you disappeared before she could return."
"Lord Denningham found me awaiting her. A quarrel was forced. He sneered at me for a Chouan. I lost my temper, and gave him his desire. We fought near here, and I think he left me for dead. Old Nanette nursed me back to life—it was a miracle that saved me. I am on my way to Varenac."
He spoke breathlessly, almost incoherently. Yet each word carried truth with it. And she believed him, though, by reason of her very love and fear, she hesitated.