‘Then be good enough to favour me with your ears!’ I answered drily. ‘For just a moment. And listen when I say that no such bargain has ever crossed my mind. You were kind enough to think well of me last night, M. de Cocheforet. Why should the mention of Mademoiselle in a moment change your opinion? I wish simply to speak to her. I have nothing to ask from her, nothing to expect from her, either favour or anything else. What I say she will doubtless tell you. CIEL man! what harm can I do to her, in the road in your sight?’
He looked at me sullenly, his face still flushed, his eyes suspicious.
‘What do you want to say to her?’ he asked jealously. He was quite unlike himself. His airy nonchalance, his careless gaiety were gone.
‘You know what I do not want to say to her, M. de Cocheforet,’ I answered. ‘That should be enough.’
He glowered at me a moment, still ill content. Then, without a word, he made me a gesture to go to her.
She had halted a score of paces away; wondering, doubtless, what was on foot. I rode towards her. She wore her mask, so that I missed the expression of her face as I approached; but the manner in which she turned her horse’s head uncompromisingly towards her brother and looked past me was full of meaning. I felt the ground suddenly cut from under me. I saluted her, trembling.
‘Mademoiselle,’ I said, ‘will you grant me the privilege of your company for a few minutes as we ride?’
‘To what purpose?’ she answered; surely, in the coldest voice in which a woman ever spoke to a man.
‘That I may explain to you a great many things you do not understand,’ I murmured.
‘I prefer to be in the dark,’ she replied. And her manner was more cruel than her words.