“But my resurrection has surprised you into neglecting even that agreeable duty. I don’t wonder. My restoration to bodily activity is full of startling possibilities. By the way, I think you said you were seriously engaged to the Countess?”
“Seriously. Of course.”
“In spite of my warning.”
“Which I fear I cannot act upon.”
“Ah, well, we shall see.” Gastineau went over to a writing table, seated himself and took up a pen. “You will come and see me to-morrow evening,” he said, without turning. But for the inflection, which was interrogative, the tone suggested a command. “I may have something important and definite to say to you then. At present my plans are not formulated.”
“Very well,” Herriard replied, troubled and doubtful.
“You will not fail? Good-night.”
He looked round and nodded smilingly, then turned back to his writing. Herriard, with a strangely uncomfortable feeling, bade him good-night, and left him.
CHAPTER XIX
HERRIARD STANDS ALONE
ONCE outside the house, the tension at which Herriard’s nerves had been strung during that surprising interview relaxed, and a whirl of troubling, anxious thoughts crowded to his mind. He seemed suddenly plunged from light into darkness; just as he seemed to be making harbour to be carried back upon an angry sea. He felt he was in no condition then to see Alexia; she would surely detect from his manner that something was wrong, and, unhappily, he was debarred from all explanation of his trouble. The lateness of the hour afforded him some excuse for not presenting himself; perhaps on the morrow his mind would be clearer and he more master of himself. As it was, just then he felt he must think, resolve and resolve again the problem, presented so threateningly, of Gastineau’s persecution of Alexia, coupled with his recovery.