"You must come to-morrow night by a different route," she said;
"and if you come again, we can change it once more. At the other
side of the château there is a little churchyard, with a ruined
chapel. The neighbours are afraid to pass it by night. The road
is deserted there, and a stile opens a way into these grounds.
Cross it and you can find a covert of thickets, to within fifty
steps of this spot."
I promised, of course, to observe her instructions implicitly.
"I have lived for more than a year in an agony of irresolution. I
have decided at last. I have lived a melancholy life; a lonelier
life than is passed in the cloister. I have had no one to confide
in; no one to advise me; no one to save me from the horrors of my
existence. I have found a brave and prompt friend at last. Shall
I ever forget the heroic tableau of the hall of the Belle Etoile?
Have you--have you really kept the rose I gave you, as we parted?
Yes--you swear it. You need not; I trust you. Richard, how often
have I in solitude repeated your name, learned from my servant.
Richard, my hero! Oh! Richard! Oh, my king! I love you."
I would have folded her to my heart--thrown myself at her feet.
But this beautiful and--shall I say it--inconsistent woman
repelled me.
"No, we must not waste our moments in extravagances. Understand
my case. There is no such thing as indifference in the married
state. Not to love one's husband," she continued, "is to hate
him. The Count, ridiculous in all else, is formidable in his
jealousy. In mercy, then, to me, observe caution. Affect to all
you speak to, the most complete ignorance of all the people in
the Château de la Carque; and, if any one in your presence
mentions the Count or Countess de St. Alyre, be sure you say you
never saw either. I shall have more to say to you to-morrow
night. I have reasons that I cannot now explain, for all I do,
and all I postpone. Farewell. Go! Leave me."
She waved me back, peremptorily. I echoed her "farewell," and
obeyed.
This interview had not lasted, I think, more than ten minutes. I
scaled the park-wall again, and reached the Dragon Volant before
its doors were closed.
I lay awake in my bed, in a fever of elation. I saw, till the
dawn broke, and chased the vision, the beautiful Countess de St.
Alyre, always in the dark, before me.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE TENANT OF THE PALANQUIN.
The Marquis called on me next day. My late breakfast was still
upon the table.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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