Chapter VII — Rosette, thinking that his clothes might distress him, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his doublet and opened his shirt to give his lungs freer play.—Thereupon Rosette saw something that would have been the most agreeable of surprises to a man, but that seemed very far from affording her any pleasure——
"A woman!" she exclaimed, "a woman! ah! Théodore!"
Isnabel—for we will continue to call him by that name, although it was not his—began to show some signs of life and languidly raised his long eyelashes; he was not wounded in any way, he was simply stunned.—He soon sat up and, with Rosette's assistance, was able to stand and remount his horse, which had stopped as soon as he felt that his rider was gone.
They rode slowly to the pool, where they found the remainder of the hunting party. Rosette in a few words told Théodore what had happened.—He changed color several times during her recital, and throughout the rest of the ride he kept his horse close beside Isnabel's.
They returned to the château betimes; the day that had begun so joyously, had a decidedly melancholy ending.
Rosette was in a meditative mood and D'Albert seemed as deeply engrossed in his reflections. The reader will soon learn what had given rise to them.