But I had no longer any doubt, and before he could add the next word I was at the door--I had snatched it open, and stood before him. Madame fell back with a cry between tears and laughter, and we stood, looking at one another.
The man was Louis St. Alais.
CHAPTER XX.
[THE SEARCH.]
I had not seen Louis since the day of the duel at Cahors, when, parting from him at the door in the passage by the Cathedral, I had refused to take his hand. Then I had been sorely angry with him. But time and old memories and crowding events had long softened the feeling; and in the joy of meeting him again, of finding him in this unexpected stranger, nothing was further from my thoughts than to rake up old grudges. I held out my hand, therefore, with a laughing word. "Voilà l'Inconnu, Monsieur!" I said with a bow. "I am here to find you, and I find you!"
He stared at me a moment in the utmost astonishment, and then impulsively grasping my hand he held it, and stood looking at me, with the old affection in his eyes. "Adrien! Adrien!" he said, much moved. "Is it really you?"
"Even so, Monsieur."
"And here?"
"Here," I said.
Then, to my astonishment, he slowly dropped my hand; and his manner and his face changed--as a house changes when the shutters are closed. "I am sorry for it," he said slowly, and after a long pause. And then, with an unmistakable flash of anger, "My God, Monsieur! Why have you come?" he cried.