‘Peace, woman!’ Maignan said in his deep voice. ‘You had your way and came with us, and you will obey orders as well as another! Be off, and see to the victuals before worse happen to you!’
‘Ay, see to the victuals!’ she retorted. ‘See to the victuals, forsooth! That is all you think of—to lie warm and eat your fill! A set of dastardly, drinking, droning guzzlers you are! You are!’ she retorted, her voice rising to a shriek. ‘May the plague take you!’
‘Silence!’ Maignan growled fiercely, ‘or have a care to yourself! For a copper-piece I would send you to cool your heels in the water below—for that last word! Begone, do you hear,’ he continued, seizing her by the shoulder and thrusting her towards the house, ‘or worse may happen to you. We are rough customers, as you will find if you do not lock up your tongue!’
I heard her go wailing into the darkness; and Heaven knows it was not without compunction I forced myself to remain inactive in the face of a devotion which seemed so much greater than mine. The men fell away one by one to look to their horses and choose sleeping-quarters for the night; and presently M. d’Agen and I were left alone standing beside the lanthorn, which the man had hung on a bush before his door. The brawling of the water as it poured between the banks, a score of paces from us, and the black darkness which hid everything beyond the little ring of light in which we stood—so that for all we could see we were in a pit—had the air of isolating us from all the world.
I looked at the young man, who had not once lisped that day; and I plainly read in his attitude his disapproval of my caution. Though he declined to meet my eye, he stood with his arms folded and his head thrown back, making no attempt to disguise the scorn and ill-temper which his face expressed. Hurt by the woman’s taunts, and possibly shaken in my opinion, I grew restive under his silence, and unwisely gave way to my feelings.
‘You do not appear to approve of my decision, M. d’Agen?’ I said.
‘It is yours to command, sir,’ he answered proudly.
There are truisms which have more power to annoy than the veriest reproaches. I should have borne in mind the suspense and anxiety he was suffering, and which had so changed him that I scarcely knew him for the gay young spark on whose toe I had trodden. I should have remembered that he was young and I old, and that it behoved me to be patient. But on my side also there was anxiety, and responsibility as well; and, above all, a rankling soreness, to which I refrain from giving the name of jealousy, though it came as near to that feeling as the difference in our ages and personal advantages (whereof the balance was all on his side) would permit. This, no doubt, it was which impelled me to continue the argument.
‘You would go on?’ I said persistently.
‘It is idle to say what I would do,’ he answered with a flash of anger.