And he set out in pursuit of them. But one of the ladies entreated him:
"Oh, sir, I beg of you . . . my friend is ill."
The shorter lady had fallen on the grass in a dead faint.
He retraced his steps and, anxiously:
"She is not wounded?" he asked. "Did those scoundrels . . ."
"No . . . no . . . it's only the fright . . . the excitement. . . . Besides you will understand . . . the lady is Mrs. Kesselbach. . . ."
"Oh!" he said.
He produced a bottle of smelling-salts, which the younger woman at once applied to her friend's nostrils. And he added:
"Lift the amethyst that serves as a stopper. . . . You will see a little box containing some tabloids. Give madame one of them . . . one, no more . . . they are very strong. . . ."
He watched the young woman helping her friend. She was fair-haired, very simply dressed; and her face was gentle and grave, with a smile that lit up her features even when she was not smiling.