We came to the little wooden bridge and saw beyond the dark meadows the lights of the house. All the windows were bright. Doubtless the troopers were making merry.
‘Now, Mademoiselle,’ I said quietly, ‘I must trouble you to stop here, and give me your attention for a few minutes. Afterwards you may go your way.’
‘Speak!’ she said defiantly. ‘And be quick! I cannot breathe the air where you are! It poisons me!’
‘Ah!’ I said slowly. ‘Do you think that you make things better by such speeches as those?’
‘Oh!’ she cried and I heard her teeth click together. ‘Would you have me fawn on you?’
‘Perhaps not,’ I answered. ‘Still you make one mistake.’
‘What is it?’ she panted.
‘You forget that I am to be feared as well as—loathed, Mademoiselle! Ay, Mademoiselle, to be feared!’ I continued grimly. ‘Do you think that I do not know why you are here in this guise? Do you think that I do not know for whom that pitcher of broth was intended? Or who will now have to fast to-night? I tell you I know all these things. Your house was full of soldiers; your servants were watched and could not leave. You had to come yourself and get food for him?’
She clutched at the handrail of the bridge, and for an instant clung to it for support. Her face, from which the shawl had fallen, glimmered white in the shadow of the trees. At last I had shaken her pride. At last!
‘What is your price?’ she murmured faintly.