The interior of this shabby-looking barouche was spacious, comfortable, and protected from the eyes of the indiscreet by shutters of wooden trellis-work. Indeed it conveyed such an impression of intimacy that Ralph fell on his knees and gave vent freely to his amorous exaltation. He was choking with joy. Whether the Countess was offended or not, he decided that this second meeting, taking place in such extraordinary circumstances and after the night of the rescue, established relations between them which permitted him to omit several stages and begin the conversation with a formal declaration of love. He did so at once and in an airy fashion which would have disarmed the most prudish of women. “You? Is it indeed you? But how dramatic! At the very moment at which the hunt was going to tear me to pieces, Josephine Balsamo springs from the shadows and rescues me in my turn. Ah, how happy I am! How I love you! I have loved you for years ... for a hundred years! Yes, I’ve a hundred years of love in me.... An old love as young as you.... And as beautiful as you are lovely!... And you are so lovely!... One cannot look on you without being moved to the depths of one’s being.... It’s a joy; but at the same time it fills one with despair to think that, whatever happens, one will never be able to grasp your beauty in all its fulness. Your expression, your smile, their deepest meanings will forever elude us.” He quivered and murmured: “Oh, your eyes rest on me! You do not turn them away! You’re not angry with me, then? You allow me to tell you of my love?” “Suppose I bid you get out?” she said, opening the door. “I should refuse.” “And if I were to call the coachman to my aid?” “I should kill him.” “And if I got out myself?” “I should continue the declaration of my love along the road.” She burst out laughing. “You have an answer for everything,” she said. “Stay where you are; but no more nonsense! Tell me what happened to you and why those men were pursuing you.” He had gained his end. “Yes, I will tell you everything since you do not repulse me.... Since you accept my love.” “But I accept nothing,” she said, still laughing. “You pile declaration on declaration and you do not even know me.” “I don’t know you?” “You hardly saw me that night--just by the light of a lantern.” “And didn’t I see you during the day before that night? Didn’t I have time to admire you during that abominable ordeal at La Haie d’Etigues?” She turned suddenly serious and gazed at him earnestly. “Oh, you were present, were you?” she said quickly. “I was there, all right,” he said with triumphant cheerfulness. “I was there; and I know who you are. Daughter of Cagliostro, I know you! You can drop your mask. The first Napoleon played with you.... You betrayed Napoleon III, helped Bismarck, and drove the brave General Boulanger to suicide! You bathe in the fountain of youth. You are a hundred years old--and I love you.”