This she said to Count Saxe, the greatest warrior in the world! And she looked like Bellona as she spoke.
“The Russian officer allowed me to speak with you,” she continued, “upon my promise to return; so I must go back, but only for a moment. I will have the traveling 88 chaise brought here, but, if need be, both my niece and myself can ride a-horseback.”
With that, she turned back, and walked across the drawbridge, Count Saxe accompanying her to the middle of it, where the Russian officer met her, and escorted her to where the chaise still stood.
Meanwhile, Francezka and Gaston had withdrawn into the shadow of the courtyard wall, where Gaston continued to whisper in her ear. Count Saxe, however, speaking to me by name, Francezka glanced up, and instantly coming toward me, laid her hand on my arm.
“This is my good friend Babache,” she said, smiling into my face.
“Yes, Mademoiselle,” I answered, “this is your good friend Babache.”
I saw her face plainly by the light of the lantern swinging overhead. She was handsomer than she had been the year before, her features having lost the sharp outline of immaturity; her eyes were wells of light, her eloquent red mouth wore a charming smile; the child had become a woman.
“It seems my destiny always to trouble you,” she said, smiling, and yet blushing a little; for her pride was offended at being thus thrown upon us, as it were.
I replied as well as I could, and then we heard Madame Riano’s voice raised on the other side of the drawbridge. She was giving the Russian officer the worst rating in her repertoire. Everything Russian, from their religion to their cookery, she heaped anathema on, when, suddenly, this farce became a tragedy. The Russians closed about her; her voice ran high, and then suddenly stopped as if she had been gagged. We 89 saw her thrust into the chaise; a Russian soldier jumped on the box, and it rattled off.
And, at the same moment, there was a rush for the drawbridge, but we were too quick for them; it was up and fast before they knew it. Count Saxe then turned to Mademoiselle Capello, and offering her his hand as if he were at the king’s levee, said: