“And is now, doubtless, in prison,” added the Count, bent on giving evidence of some inventiveness of his own.
“Nay! by no means,” cried the Duchess. “He was in a cell, but escaped two or three hours ago, as our watchman discovered, and is now probably far away from here.”
“Ah, then,” said Count Victor with nonchalance, “I daresay they will speedily recapture him. If they only knew the way with any of my compatriots it is to put a woman in his path, only she must be a woman of esprit and charm, and she shall engage him, I'll warrant, till the pursuit come up, even if it takes a century and the axe is at the end of it.”
The Duchess coughed.
The Count hemmed.
They both broke into laughter.
“Luckily, then,” said she, “he need have no anxiety on that score, should he meet the lady, for the pursuit is neither hot nor hearty. Between ourselves, monsieur, it is non-existent. If I were to meet this person we speak of I should—but for the terror I know I should feel in his society—tell him that so long as he did not venture within a couple of miles of this castle he was perfectly safe from interference.”
“And yet a dangerous man, Madame la Duchesse,” said Count Victor; “and I have heard the Duke is determined on his punishment, which is of course proper—from his Grace's point of view.”
“Yes, yes! I am told he is a dangerous man, a very monster. The Duke assured me of that, though if I were to tell the truth, Monsieur Soi-disant, I saw no evidence of it in the young gentleman when I met him last night. A most harmless fellow, I assure you. Are monsieur's feet not cold?”
She was staring at his red-heeled dancing-shoes.