“It’s extraordinary.... I should never have believed it possible to succeed.... And so quickly! There, where we had all failed.... Yes: it really was a miracle.” “Love’s miracle,” said Ralph. The carriage sped along with astonishing rapidity, keeping to cross-country lanes, it avoided the passage through villages. Up hill and down dale the ardor of those two little thin horses never flagged. On either side the country passed like images in a dream. “Was Beaumagnan there?” asked the Countess. “Luckily for him he was not,” said Ralph with a darkling air. “Why luckily?” “If he had been, I should have strangled him,” said Ralph between his teeth. “I hate the gloomy dog.” “Not so much as I do,” she said bitterly. “But you haven’t always hated him,” said he unable to hide his jealousy. “Lies and calumnies,” said Josephine Balsamo coldly, without raising her voice. “Beaumagnan is an impostor, an unbalanced creature, full of morbid pride; and it is because I rejected his love that he desired my death. That I said the other day; and he did not contradict me.... He could not contradict me.” “But what joyful words!” exclaimed Ralph. “Then you never loved him? What a weight off my spirits! But, after all, the thing was impossible! Josephine Balsamo to fall in love with a Beaumagnan!” He laughed aloud in his joy. “But listen, I do not wish to call you that any longer,” he went on. “Josephine is not a pretty name. Let me call you Josine. May I? That’s it, I will call you Josine, as Napoleon and your mother Josephine Beauharnais called you Josine. That’s settled, isn’t it? You are Josine ... my Josine.” “Respect first, please,” she said smiling at his childishness. “I am not your Josine.” “Respect! But I’m overflowing with respect. What! We were shut up together.... You were entirely defenseless.... And I remained on my knees before you as before an idol. And I’m full of fear! I’m trembling! If you were to give me your hand to kiss I should not dare to do it!” CHAPTER VI. DETECTIVES AND POLICEMEN The journey was one long protestation of love. Perhaps the Countess of Cagliostro was right not to put Ralph to the test by holding out her hand for him to kiss. But in truth, though he had sworn an oath to win that charming young woman and was resolved to do so, he felt for her a respect which left him just enough courage to ply her with amorous words, and no more. Did she hear him? For a while, yes--as one listens to a child telling you prettily how fond he is of you. Then she sank into a profound thoughtful silence which disconcerted him. At last he cried: “Speak to me, I implore you. I speak jokingly in order to be able to tell you things that I should not dare to tell you seriously. But, at heart, I’m afraid of you; and I do not know what I am saying. Answer me, I beg you. Say just a few words that will recall me to reality.” “Only a few words?” she said slowly. “Yes, just a few.”