“Madame Cheverny gave another reason to me; she said it was because she loved you so much she could not let you go away unpledged to her.”
Gaston laughed a joyous laugh, and then I told him faithfully all Francezka had said and done while I was at the château.
“And did she say anything of my brother? For I know that he has seen her many times since I have,” Gaston asked, after we had talked together for a long time.
Count Saxe always said there was something between my eyes which told just what was passing in my mind. I was not prepared for this question of Gaston Cheverny’s; it confused me, and I showed it.
“I see,” he said, after a moment. “Regnard has been pursuing Francezka. But, no doubt, she has told him, as she was quite at liberty to do, of our marriage. It is only the public knowledge of it that would place her in jeopardy. Well, the secret is safe enough with Regnard. He is deeply chagrined. I feel for him, because he is my brother; but in love and war, one must learn to face defeat.”
Then he asked after his dog, and all I had to tell him contented him very much.
By that time it was ten o’clock. It was Gaston Cheverny’s custom, as well as mine, to walk a little out of doors every night before we slept, so we walked together on the bank of the river. The night was sultry 273 and starless; it looked as if there would be rain on the morrow. All was still and sleeping in the little town. In our own quarters, a low stone house, there was no light. Count Saxe was weary with his long day’s ride, and had gone to bed immediately after supper. The other officers had followed his example. It seemed as if the whole world slept, except Gaston Cheverny and me. We walked up and down the river bank under a lowering night sky speaking but little, and that mostly of Francezka.
Gaston had the same golden hopes that Francezka had. Beautiful visions of their future life arose before him. He was full of a noble enthusiasm for his profession and looked to achieving distinction as a counterbalance to Francezka’s fortune. Like Francezka, he seemed to have fallen into that dazzling error that Fate was under bond to favor them.
When, at last, we turned our steps toward the house, Gaston stopped for a moment on the threshold, and said:
“But what if misfortune befall? Francezka will no more forget me than I shall forget her—and when I forget her, may God forget me.” These were his final words.