At this moment a flash of lightning violently illumined the night, and the Countess and Quentin were enabled to see each other’s faces in the spectral light. Then came a thunderclap as loud as a cannon shot.
“Oh, my God!” gasped the Countess as she devoutly crossed herself.
Quentin felt a tremor run through him at the sight of the woman’s terror, and said to her:
“My dear lady, do not let us cause you any alarm. Please rest assured that we have no intention of harming you. I rather think that the man on the box is some gentleman who is in love with you, and not being able in any other way to attain good fortune, is abducting you in this manner.”
Quentin’s accent, his gallant meaning in those circumstances must have surprised the Countess, as she made no answer.
“Don’t you think so?” said Quentin. “Don’t you believe that this is a matter of some one courting you?”
“It’s a fine way to court,” she replied.
“All ways are good if they come out right.”
“Do you believe that this method of treating a lady can come out right?”
“Why not? Other more difficult things have been seen in the world, and they do say that women like the novel.”