But he had turned towards the river again, and waved his hand outward. “This is all emblematic of our fortress, I fear —dissolution,” he said, wearily.
“One might descant on the promise of spring and the renewal of hope, but in reality I gather as little from the prospect as you do,” I returned. And side by side we leaned over the parapet, and continued to indulge our cheerless speculations in silence.
“Chevalier,” said the priest, suddenly, but in his usual tone, and without changing his position, “perhaps I owe you a more formal apology than was possible last night; but when I found that Mademoiselle Nairn—”
“Mme. de St. Just,” I corrected.
“It is scarce worth while to keep up that fiction between us,” he said, as if waiving the most ordinary form in the world, and in some manner I checked the cry of astonishment that was on my lips, and remained silent while he continued. “When I found Mademoiselle Nairn in your company, I too hastily assumed that it was by design on your part.”
I was so bewildered by this unconscious revelation that I could make no reply; but, fortunately, he did not mark my agitation, and went on as though speaking to himself: “Right or wrong, I have been the means of keeping her from you thus far; and if I have sinned in so doing, I must bear the consequence.”
As he spake he turned and faced me, but by this I had recovered command of myself, and saw that his thin face was flushed and drawn with suffering. “Let me go on,” he said, with decision. “I owe an explanation to myself as well as to you.”
Just what he said I cannot clearly recall. The revelation he had made was so astounding, had so completely changed the whole complexion of my outlook, that my brain could scarce apprehend the import of his words. I only realised that Margaret was no longer beyond my reach. The rest mattered not one whit.
When he ceased speaking, I briefly exposed what had been my position throughout, without reserve or argument, leaving it to him to draw his own conclusion.
“Chevalier,” cried the priest, heartily, as I ended, “I feel that any apology would be frivolous in the face of what you have told me, but I can assure you no man was ever more satisfied to find himself in the wrong than I.”