It was clear that he did not choose to explain his movements in the past or in the future, or that he could not.
But he took his turn at asking questions of Jean and Babette about their own affairs. Had they wanted for anything? Had they any recent intelligence of their good brother Pierre at Calais?
He tenderly expressed his sympathy for Babette, and tried to comfort her so far as it is possible to comfort a mother who is weeping for her child.
Thus Gabriel passed the remainder of the day amid his friends and his retainers, always kind and affectionate toward them, but never for an instant shaking, off the melancholy which overshadowed him like a black pall.
As for Martin-Guerre, who never once took his eyes off his dear master, found again at last, Gabriel spoke with him and inquired about his health with much interest. But throughout the whole day he never breathed a word of the promise he had made him months before, and seemed to have forgotten the engagement he had entered into to punish the wretch who had stolen his name and his honor, and had persecuted poor Martin with impunity for so long.
Martin himself was too respectful and too unselfish to direct his master's mind to the subject.
But when it was evening Gabriel rose, and said in a tone which admitted neither contradiction nor remonstrance, "I am obliged to leave you now."
Then turning to Martin-Guerre, he added,—
"My good Martin, I have been busy in your behalf during my travels, and unknown as I was, I have inquired and investigated; and I believe that I have at last found traces of the real truth of the matter in which you are interested; for I have not forgotten my engagement with you, Martin."
"Oh, Monseigneur!" cried the squire, overjoyed and embarrassed at the same time.