I stood with my flowers in my hands, inwardly trembling, but outwardly calm.
"It is rather for me to ask where in the world you have sprung from, monsieur. It is not fair to startle people like this."
"I ask your pardon once more. As it happens, I am travelling on business and pleasure combined. My estates of Clermont-Ferrand lie but a short way from here, as you perhaps know; but let me help you to add to those flowers you have gathered," and he sprang from his horse.
"No, thank you, Monsieur de Clermont," I answered hastily. "I must hurry on lest Madame de Termes, with whom I am travelling, should think I am lost."
"So it is Monsieur de Clermont now, is it? It will be a stiff Monsieur le Marquis soon," and my heart began to beat, though I said nothing, and he went on: "For old sake's sake let me gather that cluster yonder for you, and then Monsieur de Clermont will take you to Madame."
With a touch of his poniard he cut the flowers, and handed them to me, breaking one as he did and fastening it into the flap of his pourpoint. So quiet and masterful was his manner that I did nothing to resist, and then, putting me on my horse, he mounted himself, saying with that joyous laugh of his:
"Now, fair lady, let us hasten onward to Madame de Termes. I need protection, too--I fear my knaves have lagged far behind."
CHAPTER IV.
[AT AMBAZAC.]
The road swept onward with gentle curves, at one time hanging to the edge of the hillside, at another walled in on either hand by rocks covered with fern and bracken, to whose jagged and broken surface--whereon purples, greens, and browns seemed to absorb themselves into each other--there clung the yellow agrimony, and climbing rose, with its sweet bloom full of restless, murmuring bees.