"And because he assailed her loyalty I killed that man!" I said aloud, forgetful, for the time, of the presence of Blaise and Frojac, Maugert, Hugo, and the gypsy girl. All these stood in silence, not knowing what to do or say, awaiting some order or sign from me. "She is a woman, monsieur!" said Blaise, gently, as if he thought to please me by offering some excuse for her conduct, or for my having been so deceived in her. And then again I saw her pure, pale face, her full, moist eyes, her slender, girlish figure. Let the evidence be what it might, it was impossible for me to see her in my mind and conceive her to be treacherous. There must be some other thing accounting for all these strange circumstances. She could not be a spy, a hired traitress! A glad thought came to me. She might have thought that her presence added to my danger, that I would refuse to leave Maury while she continued weak, that I might thus through her be caught, that her departure would leave me no reason for further delay. It was a wild thought, but it was within possibility, so I took it in and clung to it. At such a time how does a man welcome the least surmise that agrees with his wishes or checks his fears! "She is a woman, monsieur!" Blaise had said, even while this thought burst upon me. "So much the worse for any man that dare accuse her!" I cried. "She is the victim of some devilish seeming! My armor, Maugert! Frojac, to horse! You and I ride at once! Blaise, marshal the men, and follow when you can, by the forest path!" "Ah!" cried Blaise, overjoyed. "To Guienne, to join Henri of Navarre?" "No!" I answered. "To Clochonne, to join mademoiselle!" Maugert obediently and hastily brought me my breast-piece, and began to adjust it to my body. I already had my sword. Frojac had started for the stables, but at my answer to Blaise he stopped and looked at me in astonishment. It was thus with me: Mademoiselle had gone. The presence that had made Maury a paradise to me was no longer there. The place was now intolerable. I could not exist away from mademoiselle. Where she was not, life to me was torture. Guilty or innocent, she gave the world all the charm it had for me. Traitress or true, she drew me to her. If she were innocent, she imperilled herself. In any event, if she went to Clochonne she put herself in the power of Montignac. The thought of that was maddening to me. I must find her, whatever the risk. Perhaps I could catch her before she reached Clochonne. If I ran into danger, I should presently have Blaise and the men to help me out; but I could not wait for them to arm. Every minute of delay was galling. Into what might she fall? Whatever she be, good or bad, angel or fiend, I must see her--see her! Blaise stood looking at me with open mouth. "She will prove her honesty, my life upon it!" I said. "You are mad!" cried Blaise. "She will reach the chateau of Clochonne long before you do!"