"My God!" I cried, and cast the boy away from me. What now to me was he or anything that he might do or say? He cowered for a moment on the ground, looking up at me, and then, seeing that I no longer heeded him, ran out to the courtyard.
For a moment I stood alone in the vestibule, crushed by the terrible certainty. All women, then, were as bad as Mlle. d'Arency. The sweet and tender girl who had filled my heart was as the worst of them. To be betrayed was deplorable, but to be betrayed by her! To find her a traitress was terrible, but that I should be her dupe! And that I should still love her, love her, love her!
What, she was in the château, under this roof, and I tarried here deploring her treason when I might be at her side, clasping her, looking into her eyes! "In the chamber at the head of the staircase," the guard had said. I forgot Frojac, the guard, Pierre. But one thought, one desire, one impulse, possessed me. With my dripping sword in my hand, I bounded up the stairs. They led me to a narrow gallery, which had windows on the side next the courtyard. There were doors on the other side. A single light burned. No one was in the gallery. The door nearest the staircase landing was slightly open. I ran to it and into the chamber to which it gave entrance.
As in the gallery, so in the chamber, I found no one. I stood just within the threshold and looked around. The walls of the apartment were hung with tapestry. At the right was first a window, then a chimney-place, beside which stood a sword, then a prieu-dieu. Before the fireplace was a table, on which were a lamp burning, paper, ink, pens, and a large bowl of fruit. At the left of the chamber was a large bed, its curtains drawn aside. Beside this was another table, on which was an empty tray. There was a door, slightly ajar, in that side of the room, and another in the side that faced me. On the back of a chair near the fireplace was slung a hunting-horn. On a stool near the door by which I had entered lay a belt with a dagger in sheath. The bed looked as if some one had recently lain on it. The presence of the fruit, writing materials, and other things seemed to indicate that this was the chamber of M. de la Chatre. But why was he not in his bed? Probably he could not sleep while he awaited the result of this midnight enterprise of his troops. Certainly the servants in the château were asleep. It was apparent that the six guards, four of whom we had disposed of, were the only soldiers left at the château, for, if there had been any others in the guard-house, they would have been awakened by the fight in the courtyard. How many troops were left in the town, I could not know, but they would not come to the château during the night unless brought by an alarm. So there would not be many to interpose themselves between mademoiselle and me. But where was she? Whither should I first turn to seek her.
I had well-nigh chosen to try the room at the left, when the door opposite me opened without noise, and a figure glided into the chamber, swiftly and silently. The movement was that of a person who rapidly traverses a place in search of some one.
"Mademoiselle!"
She heard me, saw me, stopped, and stood with parted lips, astounded face, and terror-stricken eyes.
So we stood, the width of the room between us, regarding each other.