"I am going in, monsieur. I am tired. No, I can go alone. Do not be concerned about me. I shall soon feel better."
And she went rapidly into the château, giving me no time in which to assure her that there was no reason for immediate alarm.
I wished to consider Marianne's news before communicating it to any of my men. I had to inquire of myself whether it called for any immediate action on my part. So that my meditations might not be interrupted, I left the château and walked into the forest.
For hours I considered the possible relations of the governor's arrival to mademoiselle's safety and my own, to that of my men and our cause, and to my intention of delivering M. de Varion from prison. But I could arrive at no conclusion, for I knew neither the governor's intentions, nor what information he had concerning me. There were so many probabilities and so many possible combinations of them, that at last I threw the whole matter from my mind, determining to await events. On the way back to the château I reproached myself for having wasted so much time in making useless guesses, for when I found myself at the gate it was night, and the moon had risen.
I stopped at the entrance and stood still to listen to the voice of Blaise, which rose in the courtyard in the words of a psalm. He sang it with a gentleness the very reverse of the feeling his voice had expressed in the war hymn a few hours earlier. From a sound that came between the words now and then, I knew that he was engaged in one of his favorite occupations, that of polishing his weapons.
Pleased to hear him singing in the moonlight, I stood at the gate, lest by entering I might interrupt the psalm.
Presently, at the end of the stanza, I heard another voice from the doorway of the château.
"Ah, Blaise," said Jeannotte, "it is the spirit of your mother that controls you now."
He made no answer, nor did he resume his singing. Then I recalled that for the past few days he had not shown his former susceptibility to the maid's charms; he had, indeed, exhibited towards her a kind of disapproving shyness. I had not attached any importance to this.
"Why do you not go on singing your psalm?" Jeannotte asked, coming nearer to him.