"How did you manage it?" he asked. "I don't know. I fancy my horse put his foot in a hole." "And you went up in the air?" "That was it," she answered, laughing. "Are you hurt?" "Not the least bit in the world!" And then she added pensively: "It's very nice of you to trouble about me, and all the more so as you do not like me, I know." Hubert de Bernes turned as red as a tomato. "Oh, mademoiselle, how can you think--" "I do think so--" "Well, but," he began, in an anxious voice, "tell me at least whatever makes you imagine such a thing?" "Oh, everything and nothing; it would take too long to explain. Well, this morning, for instance, when I asked you to go with us to the theatre, you looked quite annoyed, and you refused; oh, yes--out and out. Well, why did you refuse?" "But, mademoiselle, I--I assure you--" "There you see, you cannot find a word to say, not even the most common-place excuse." Shaking her head so that her hair came down and fell over the young man's shoulder and against his face, she went on talking, laughing all the time, and still leaning against him for support. "I don't mind, though, at all, for whether you want to or not now, you will have to come with us to the theatre; you cannot refuse." "But--" "Oh, there is no but about it. I will have that now for the payment of our bet." "Our bet?" "Well, did we not make a bet? I, that there would be an accident, because there always are accidents, you know; and you, that there would not be one at all." "Yes, but--" "Well, it seems to me that this is one. Don't you consider it enough--my accident? Well, I wonder what more you want?" "Yes, it's true," he managed to stammer out. "What an idiot I am! the fact is, I was so frightened--if you only knew." She looked up at him with a sweet expression in her beautiful eyes, and he was fascinated by her sweetness. "Thank you again," she said, holding out her little hand to him; "thank you for looking after me; and now you had better go on quickly." "But can you mount again?" "Not just yet--I feel a sort of stiffness, and a tired feeling all over. No, will you go on and tell M. de Clagny to come with his carriage and fetch me; don't say anything about it to the others; I don't want grandmamma to know." As Hubert de Bernes was holding her hand pressed against his lips, Bijou went on impatiently: "Go now, quickly! ask M. de Clagny to leave his carriage on the road, and explain to him that he will find me in the wood near the road, just where I left him a little while ago. And will you fasten Patatras to a tree before you go away? Thank you!" She looked at him again with her sweetest expression, and asked once more: "It's settled, then, for this evening, isn't it?" "Yes, it's quite settled," he answered. As soon as he was out of sight, she lay down again in exactly the same position in which Bernes had found her.