‘Are we not? Well, I suppose not; for if we wanted company, Captain Larolle said that he would be delighted to see us—in the parlour.’
‘He has taken your parlour?’ I said.
‘He and his lieutenant sit there. But I suppose that we rebels should be thankful,’ she added bitterly; ‘we have still our bedrooms left to us.’
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Then I must deal with Clon as I can. But I have still a favour to ask, Mademoiselle. It is only that you and your sister will descend to-morrow at your usual time. I shall be in the parlour.’
‘I would rather not,’ she said, pausing and speaking in a troubled voice.
‘Are you afraid?’
‘No, Monsieur, I am not afraid,’ she answered proudly, ‘but—’
‘You will come?’ I said.
She sighed before she spoke. At length,—
‘Yes, I will come—if you wish it,’ she answered. And the next moment she was gone round the corner of the house, while I laughed to think of the excellent watch these gallant gentlemen were keeping. M. de Cocheforet might have been with her in the garden, might have talked with her as I had talked, might have entered the house even, and passed under their noses scot-free. But that is the way of soldiers. They are always ready for the enemy, with drums beating and flags flying—at ten o’clock in the morning. But he does not always come at that hour.