The reminder somewhat sobered the Count.
"I had the means, too," I went on, "to fly with Madame far from this place. We might indeed have been a half-day's ride away by this time. I assure you it is true. Let what I have done convince you of what more I could have done. You don't think I should have gone so far as I have, unless I was sure of going further, do you?"
The Count shrugged his shoulders, pretending derision, but he waited for me.
"And why did I not go further?" I continued. "Because the Countess would not. Because she is the truest of wives. Because, when I opened her door, she met me with a stern rebuke for supposing her capable of flying from your roof. Ah, Monsieur, it would have set your mind at rest, if you had heard her. She bows to your will, though it may crush her, because you are her husband. Never was such pious fidelity to marriage vows. Her only hope is that your mind may be cleared of its false doubts of her."
The Count looked impressed. He had become thoughtful, and a kind of grateful ease seemed to show itself upon his brow. I was pleasing myself with the belief that I had thus, in an unexpected way, convinced him of the Countess's virtue, when a voice at my side broke in upon my satisfaction. I had so closely kept my attention upon the Count that I had not observed Captain Ferragant come down the stairs. It was he that now spoke, in his cool, quiet, scoffing tone:
"Perhaps the Countess had less faith in this gentleman's power to convey her safely away than he seems to have had himself. Perhaps she saw a less promising future for a renegade wife than he could picture to her. Perhaps she, too, perceived the value of her refusal to run away, as evidence of virtue in the eyes of a credulous husband."
The Count's forehead clouded again. I turned indignantly upon the Captain, but addressed my words to the Count, saying:
"Monsieur, you will pardon me, but it seems to a stranger that you allow this gentleman great liberties of speech. Men of honour do not, as a rule, even permit their friends to defame their wives."
"This gentleman is in my confidence," said the Count, his grey face reddening for a moment. "It is you, a stranger as you say, who have taken great liberties in speaking of my domestic affairs. But you shall pay for them, young gentleman. Your youth makes your presumption all the greater, and shall not make your punishment the less. I will trouble you, Captain, to see that he stays here till I return."
At this the Count, motioning his attendants to follow, who had stood out of earshot of our lowered voices, passed on to the court-yard, and thence, of course, to the prison of the Countess.