"You weary me, my friend! Can you believe it?" said Madame de Castro. "Was it not I who went in search of you, in some measure? Alas! I fear, very imprudently. I will see you again, but not here—at your own house. The first opportunity that presents itself for me to get away, I will come to see you, and resume this sweet though painful interview. I promise you. Rely upon me. At the moment, you are right, I confess; I am somewhat preoccupied and in pain. I feel as if I were in a burning fever—"
"I see, Diane, and I will leave you," replied Gabriel, sadly.
"We shall meet again soon, my friend," said she. "Now go, go!"
She accompanied him as far as the door.
"If I keep him here," she thought, "it is certain that he will see the king; if he goes away at once, there is at least a chance that they may not meet."
Yet she hesitated still, and was anxious and tremulous.
"Pardon me, Gabriel," said she, quite beside herself, as they stood on the threshold; "just a word more. Mon Dieu! Your narrative has upset me so that it is hard for me to collect my thoughts. What was I about to ask you? Ah, I know! Just one word, but one of much importance. You have not yet told me what you intend to do. I begged for mercy, and you cried, 'Justice!' Pray tell me how you hope to obtain justice!"
"I do not know yet," said Gabriel, gloomily; "I trust in God for the event and the opportunity."
"For the opportunity!" repeated Diane, with a shudder. "For the opportunity,—what do you mean by that? Oh, come back, come back! I cannot let you go, Gabriel, until you have explained to me that word 'opportunity;' stay, I implore you!"
Taking his hand, she led him back into the room.