'Where will you go?' she cried; and added sharply as he reached the edge: 'It is very deep; two fathoms at the shallowest.'
'So much the better,' said Bellarion. 'They'll be the less likely to seek me in it.'
He took a succession of deep breaths to prepare himself for the long submersion.
'Ah, but wait!' she cried on a strained note. 'Tell me, at least ...'
She broke off with a catch in her breath. He was gone. He had slipped in, taking the water quietly as an otter, and save for the wave that sped across the lake no sign of him remained.
The lady stood breathlessly at gaze waiting to see the surface broken by his emerging head. But she waited vainly and in growing alarm. The moments passed. Voices behind her became audible and grew in volume. The men-at-arms were advancing swiftly, the courtiers following to see the sport their captain promised.
Suddenly from the alder-bush on the island's point a startled water-hen broke forth in squawking terror, and went scudding across the lake, its feet trailing along the water into which it finally splashed again within a yard of the farther shore. From within the bush itself some slight momentary disturbance sent a succession of ripples across the lesser ripples whipped up by the evening breeze. Then all grew still again, including the alarms of the watching lady who had perceived and read these signs.
She drew closer about her white, slender shoulders a little mantle edged with miniver, and moved like one impelled by natural curiosity to meet the soldiers who came surging up the terrace steps. There were four of them, led by that same young officer who had invaded the hostelry of the Stag in quest of Lorenzaccio.
'What is this?' the lady greeted him, her tone a little hard as if his abrupt invasion of her garden were in itself an offence. 'What are you seeking here?'
'A man, madonna,' the captain answered her shortly, having at the moment no breath for more.