She sank on a seat with a moan of despair; and precisely at that moment M. de Cocheforet opened the door and came in. Over his shoulder I had a glimpse of Mademoiselle’s proud face, a little whiter than of yore, with dark marks under the eyes, but like Satan’s for coldness.
‘What is this?’ he said, frowning, as his eyes lighted on Madame.
‘It is—that we start at eleven o’clock, Monsieur,’ I answered, bowing curtly. And I went out by the other door.
. . . . .
That I might not be present at their parting I remained in the garden until the hour I had appointed was well past; and then, without entering the house, I went to the stable entrance. Here I found all in readiness, the two troopers whose company I had requisitioned as far as Auch, already in the saddle, my own two knaves waiting with my sorrel and M. de Cocheforet’s chestnut. Another horse was being led up and down by Louis, and, alas! my heart moved at the sight, for it bore a lady’s saddle. We were to have company then. Was it Madame who meant to come with us, or Mademoiselle? And how far? To Auch?
I suppose that they had set some kind of a watch on me, for as I walked up M. de Cocheforet and his sister came out of the house; he with a pale face and bright eyes, and a twitching visible in his cheek—though he still affected a jaunty bearing; she wearing a black mask.
‘Mademoiselle accompanies us?’ I said formally.
‘With your permission, Monsieur,’ he answered with bitter politeness. But I saw that he was choking with emotion; he had just parted from his wife, and I turned away.
When we were all mounted he looked at me.
‘Perhaps—as you have my parole, you will permit me to ride alone?’ he said with a little hesitation. ‘And—’