She gave a pretty little smile and shrug of helplessness, as if to say, "I cannot help it, monsieur, if you will overwhelm me with compliments which are not deserved, I am powerless to prevent you." But the compliments were all the more deserved because she seemed to think them not so.
Her modesty weakened my own audacity, and her innocent eyes put me into a kind of confusion. So I changed the subject.
"It appears to me, mademoiselle," I said, "that I have had the honor of ridding you of unpleasant company."
Her face quickly clouded, as if my words had brought to her mind a greater trouble than the mere importunities of an insolent adventurer.
"De Berquin!" she said, and then heaved a deep sigh; "I had forgotten about him."
"I would not commit his offence of thrusting unwelcome company on you," I replied; "but I would gladly offer you for a few leagues the sword that has already put him to flight."
She was for some time silent. Then she answered slowly in a low voice, "I ride towards Clochonne, monsieur."
Taking this for an acceptance of my offer, I sheathed my sword, and replied with an animation that betrayed my pleasure:
"And I towards the same place, mademoiselle. When you choose to set out,
I am ready."
"I am ready now, monsieur—," she said, lingering over the word "monsieur," as if trying to recall whether or not I had told her my name.