This smile, accompanied by a provoking glance which destroyed the consistency of her reserve, revived the youth’s feelings. But inspired by her nature, which often impels a woman to do either too much or too little under such circumstances, Mademoiselle de Verneuil, having covered the young man with that brilliant look full of love’s promises, immediately withdrew from his answering expression into a cold and severe modesty,--a conventional performance by which a woman sometimes hides a true emotion. In a moment, a single moment, when each expected to see the eyelids of the other lowered, they had communicated to one another their real thoughts; but they veiled their glances as quickly as they had mingled them in that one flash which convulsed their hearts and enlightened them. Confused at having said so many things in a single glance, they dared no longer look at each other. Mademoiselle de Verneuil withdrew into cold politeness, and seemed to be impatient for the conclusion of the meal. “Mademoiselle, you must have suffered very much in prison?” said Madame du Gua. “Alas, madame, I sometimes think that I am still there.” “Is your escort sent to protect you, mademoiselle, or to watch you? Are you still suspected by the Republic?” Mademoiselle felt instinctively that Madame du Gua had no real interest in her, and the question alarmed her. “Madame,” she replied, “I really do not know myself the exact nature of my relations to the Republic.” “Perhaps it fears you?” said the young man, rather satirically. “We must respect her secrets,” interposed Madame du Gua. “Oh, madame, the secrets of a young girl who knows nothing of life but its misfortunes are not interesting.” “But,” answered Madame du Gua, wishing to continue a conversation which might reveal to her all that she wanted to know, “the First Consul seems to have excellent intentions. They say that he is going to remove the disabilities of the _emigres_.” “That is true, madame,” she replied, with rather too much eagerness, “and if so, why do we rouse Brittany and La Vendee? Why bring civil war into France?” This eager cry, in which she seemed to share her own reproach, made the young sailor quiver. He looked earnestly at her, but was unable to detect either hatred or love upon her face. Her beautiful skin, the delicacy of which was shown by the color beneath it, was impenetrable. A sudden and invincible curiosity attracted him to this strange creature, to whom he was already drawn by violent desires. “Madame,” said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, after a pause, “may I ask if you are going to Mayenne?” “Yes, mademoiselle,” replied the young man with a questioning look.