He left William with his carriage and hurried to the station. The train came in. He got into a compartment without being seen by the girl. Two compartments, full of passengers, separated them. An hour afterwards he stole down the corridor to take a look at her. She was asleep with her head wrapped in a shawl.
At Lourdes the train left the main line; an hour later it arrived at Pierrefitte-Nestales, the terminal.
Ralph hung back; scarcely had the girl reached the platform than a band of young girls, all dressed alike in chestnut frocks and cloaks bordered with a broad blue ribbon, rushed at her, followed by a nun wearing an immense white cap.
“Aurelie! Aurelie! You’ve come at last!” they cried.
The girl with the green eyes passed from the arms of one to the arms of another. Last of all the nun hugged her affectionately and said joyfully: “How pleased I am to see you again, Aurelie dear! And you’re going to stay a good month with us, aren’t you?” [[116]]
CHAPTER VI
BETWEEN THE BRANCHES
With her arm through the arm of the nun and surrounded by her young companions carrying her luggage, the girl with the green eyes walked, smiling happily, towards a brake drawn by three mules. They climbed into it; and it set off up the steep road to Luz, with a tinkling of the mules’ bells. Ralph, who had kept out of sight, hired a Victoria to carry him to Luz.
“Ah, my pretty lady with the green eyes, henceforth you are my prisoner,” murmured Ralph. “An accomplice of a murderer, a burglar, and a blackmailer, murderess yourself, daughter of the polite world, prima donna of light opera, boarder at a convent—whatever you may be, you shall not slip between my fingers again. Trust is a prison from which one cannot escape; and however angry you may be with me for stealing those kisses, in the bottom of your heart you trust the man who never tires of saving you and is always on the spot when you stand on the edge of the abyss. One grows attached to one’s St. Bernard, even if he has bitten you once.