"You don't suppose I'd be going if there were, do you?" she remarked in English tartly, curving her arching black brows at him; "how many are we—five? That's three too many, in my opinion. Father Rielle—I go with you in Mr. Poussette's buggy; you others there, you three messieurs—you can go how you please."
The priest flushed, then a sudden glance passed between him and Ringfield, and in that look each knew what the other wished and hated him for it! Still, Father Rielle followed Pauline instantly, and there was no opposition as she lightly leapt into Poussette's buggy, and with a wave of her muff, adorned by a bright scarlet bow, two of the five were soon out of sight.
CHAPTER XV
THE STORM
"Snow is at the door
Assaulting and defending, and the wind,
A sightless labourer, whistles at his work."
Dr. Renaud now called on the minister and Poussette to make haste; he had been delayed by the accident to Miss Cordova and already large flat flakes were falling.
"Just the size of half-dollars, eh? The idea is, Poussette, to bring madame home; that is to say, the curé's idea, but he's gone off with another woman. I suppose you are jealous now, of this one I mean, not the other."
"Not me, much. Father Rielle, he's no harm. He cannot marry mademoiselle nor any one else; besides, he has no money. Mlle. Pauline—she is for the money."
"Ah—ha, I believe you. We used to read or sing, I forget which, at college, about 'Les beaux yeux de sa Cassette'. I do not know the origin of the quotation, but you understand, Mr. Ringfield, what it means, and our young lady in front there has learnt in a bitter school the value of money. Cassette—cassette—cash-box; you will see, if she ever settles down, it will be, as our friend Poussette says, for the money."
Ringfield's throat was dry, he did not speak; his stern gaze, directed at the leafless landscape over which the first slow snows were falling, gave no indication of the tumult within; besides, the aspect of the road and condition of the elements were calculated to banish personal emotions, for even Poussette's hilarity was silenced by the increasing velocity of the wind and the darkness dropping upon them. It was only five miles to the métairie, but at the end of the second mile the sky was absolutely blank and the snow so thick that heaps of it lay on the horse's flanks and on their own laps and hands. It kept increasing at such magical rate that the roadway was obscured and twice Dr. Renaud found himself out on the rocky plateau at the left, instead of the middle path. The priest and Miss Clairville had vanished in front, but the three men could hear the sound of a horse on the slabs of rock behind them, coming very swiftly too, and in a few minutes a second buggy dashed madly by. The horse was running away, no doubt badly frightened by the violence of the storm, and Ringfield recognized Mr. and Mrs. Abercorn in the agonized couple holding bravely on, while the excitable little mare dashed through the snow.