I stood with my flowers in my hands, inwardly trembling, but outwardly calm.
"It is rather for me to ask where in the world you have sprung from, monsieur. It is not fair to startle people like this."
"I ask your pardon once more. As it happens, I am travelling on business and pleasure combined. My estates of Clermont-Ferrand lie but a short way from here, as you perhaps know; but let me help you to add to those flowers you have gathered," and he sprang from his horse.
"No, thank you, Monsieur de Clermont," I answered hastily. "I must hurry on lest Madame de Termes, with whom I am travelling, should think I am lost."
"So it is Monsieur de Clermont now, is it? It will be a stiff Monsieur le Marquis soon," and my heart began to beat, though I said nothing, and he went on: "For old sake's sake let me gather that cluster yonder for you, and then Monsieur de Clermont will take you to Madame."
With a touch of his poniard he cut the flowers, and handed them to me, breaking one as he did and fastening it into the flap of his pourpoint. So quiet and masterful was his manner that I did nothing to resist, and then, putting me on my horse, he mounted himself, saying with that joyous laugh of his:
"Now, fair lady, let us hasten onward to Madame de Termes. I need protection, too-I fear my knaves have lagged far behind."
CHAPTER IV.
AT AMBAZAC
The road swept onward with gentle curves, at one time hanging to the edge of the hillside, at another walled in on either hand by rocks covered with fern and bracken, to whose jagged and broken surface-whereon purples, greens, and browns seemed to absorb themselves into each other-there clung the yellow agrimony, and climbing rose, with its sweet bloom full of restless, murmuring bees.
Sometimes the path lost itself in some cool arcade of trees, where the sunlight fell in oblique golden shafts through the leaves that interlaced overhead, and then suddenly, without warning, we would come to a level stretch on which the marguerites lay thick as snowflakes, and across which the wind bustled riotously.
As we cantered along side by side, my companion again broke forth into a joyous song, that sprang full-throated and clear, from a heart that never seemed to have known a moment of pain. His was a lithe, leopard-like strength, and as I looked at him, my thoughts ran back to the time when we first met, on his return from the Venetian Embassy, whither he had gone when M. de Bruslart made a mess of things. I do not know why it was, but he singled me out for his particular notice; and though it was openly known that he was betrothed to the second daughter of M. D'Ayen, I, like a fool, was flattered by the attentions of this gay and brilliant cavalier, and day by day we were thrown together more and more, and a sort of confidence was established between us that was almost more than friendship. There was, as I have said, that in his masterful way, that had the effect of leaving me powerless; and though he could put all its light in his eyes, and all its tones in his voice, I felt instinctively that he did not love me, but was merely playing with me to exercise his strength, and dragging me towards him with a resistless force. In short, the influence of de Clermont on me was never for my good, and our intercourse always left me with the conviction that I had sunk a little lower than before; and it was at times like these, when I met de Lorgnac's grave eyes, that I felt the unspoken reproach in their glance, and would struggle to rise again, and then, in the consciousness of my own folly, I felt I fairly hated him for seeing my weakness. What right had de Lorgnac even to think of me? What did it matter to him what I did or said? So I used to argue with myself; yet in my heart of hearts, I felt that my standard of right and wrong, was being measured by what I imagined a man, to whom I had hardly ever spoken, might think.
When I make this confession, and say that the influence of de Clermont over me was never for my good, I do not mean to imply that I was guilty of anything more than foolishness; but the effect of it was to sap my high ideas, and I now know that this man, aided by his surroundings-and they were all to his advantage-took the pleasure of a devil in lowering my moral nature, and in moulding me to become "of the world," as he would put it. God be thanked that the world is not as he would have made it. At that time, however, I was dazzled-all but overpowered by him, and day by day my struggles were growing weaker, like those of some poor fly caught in a pitiless web. The knowledge of all this was to come to me later, when, by God's help, I escaped; but then I was blind, and foolish, and mad.
My companion's song was interrupted by Lalande, who came galloping back in hot haste, and in no good temper, to say that the whole party had halted to wait for me; and quickening our pace we hurried onward, and found them about a mile further on. To say that Madame de Termes was surprised at seeing de Clermont is to say little, and I could see, too, that she was not very well pleased; but he spoke to her so fairly and gracefully that, in spite of herself, she thawed; and half an hour later he was riding at her bridle hand, bringing smiles that had long been absent to her face. He was overjoyed to hear of the Vicomte's recovery, and said many flattering things about him, for he knew him well, having served under him in the campaign of Languedoc, and then he went on to become more communicative about himself, saying that he was the bearer of a despatch to the King of Navarre, adding, with a laugh, "a duplicate, you know-the original being carried by M. Norreys, the English freelance. Ma foi! But I should not be surprised if I reached the Bearnnois before the sluggish islander."
"Hardly, if you loiter here, Monsieur le Marquis," I said.
"You must bear the blame for that, Madame; but I will add that my orders are to pass through Périgueux as well, and so, Madame," and he turned to my friend, "if you will permit Raoul de Clermont to be your escort there, he will look upon it as the most sacred trust of his life."
He bowed to his saddle-bow, and looked so winning and handsome that Madame replied most graciously in the affirmative. A little beyond La Jonchère something very like an adventure befell us-the first on this hitherto uneventful journey. At the cross road leading to Bourganeuf, we met with a party of six or eight men, who did not require a second glance to make us see that they were capable of any mischief. They had halted to bait their horses, and, flung about in picturesque attitudes, were resting under the trees-as ill-looking a set of fellows as the pleasant shade of the planes had ever fallen upon. Had they known beforehand that we were travelling this way, they would very probably have arranged an attack on us; but as it was we came upon them rather suddenly, and as our party-which had been added to by de Clermont's two lackeys-was somewhat too strong to assault openly, without the risk of broken heads and hard knocks-things which gentry of this kind do not much affect-they let us alone, contenting themselves with gathering into a group to watch us as we went by; and this we did slowly, our men with their arms ready. As we approached, however, and saw their truculent faces, I had doubts as to whether we should pass them without bloodshed, and begged de Clermont in a low voice to prevent any such thing. He had drawn a light rapier that he wore, but as I spoke he put it back with a snap, and holding out his hand, asked for the loan of my riding-whip-a little delicate, agate-handled thing.
"It will be enough," he said as I gave it to him, and he began to swing it backwards and forwards, as if using it to flick off flies from his horse. To my joy they made no attempt to molest us, though at one time a quarrel hung on a cobweb. For as we passed, the leader of the troop, a big burly man, with a very long sword trailing at his side, and a face as red as the constant dipping of his nose into a wine cup could make it, advanced a step into the wood, and, wishing us the day, tried deliberately to get a better look at me, with an unspeakable expression in his eyes. I saw de Clermont's face grow cold and hard, he quietly put his horse between me and the man, and checking it slightly, stretched out the whip, and touched a not very clean white scarf the creature wore over his shoulder, saying:
"You are a trifle too near Limoges to wear this, my man-take my advice and fling it away."
"That is my affair," answered the man insolently.
"Precisely, Captain la Coquille. I spoke but for your good. Ah! take care!" and de Clermont's horse, no doubt secretly touched by the spur, lashed out suddenly, causing the man to spring back with an oath and an exclamation of:
"You know me! Who the devil are you?"
To this, however, de Clermont made no answer, but as we passed on he returned my whip