"Madame, the use of the sword is not confined to your country nor to de Clermont alone," and then he saw the tears that sprang to my eyes. "Ah! madame, not that; you will unman me! See, there is your equerry. Commend me to de Lorgnac when you meet, and adieu!" He dropped my hand and turned on his heel, but I could not let him go like that. "Monsieur, not that way. Promise me what I ask." "I promise to avoid a quarrel if possible; I can say no more." With that he went, erect and stately. Of what followed I never knew; but, alas! There is one sorrow that ever haunts me; and in the quiet churchyard of St. Yriarte is a tomb which I visit yearly with my husband, and it covers the heart of as brave and gallant a gentleman as ever lived--poor Norreys! CHAPTER VIII. BLAISE DE LORGNAC. We lost no time in setting forth from The Golden Frog, and as Lalande had apparently been warned by Norreys of the danger of our meeting any of de Clermont's following, we once more left, what by a stretch I might call the direct road, and again took to the hill tracks, where our wearied beasts, whom from my heart I pitied, stumbled slowly and painfully along. But if the beasts were wearied, how was it with myself and my maid? I was able to keep up, no doubt because of the mental excitement under which I laboured; but I have never understood how my faithful Mousette endured that journey; it was in truth a road of suffering. I simply went on mechanically, my mind a prey to a thousand conflicting emotions, and to thoughts that chased one another across it like dry and fallen leaves in a forest glade, blown hither and thither by an autumn wind. It had struck me, as there was nothing to be feared from de Termes, that I should order Lalande to turn and guide me back to Madame and Périgueux; but de Clermont barred the way, and it was better after all to push on to Meymac, and there with a cooler head than I now possessed, decide what to do. What had I not passed through within the last few hours? I had made trouble enough for myself by jumping womanlike to conclusions, and imagining that the postscript of de Termes' letter to his wife referred to me, whereas it clearly concerned some one else. That was perhaps a pardonable error considering the circumstances; but there were other things, and even now my face grows hot when I think of them.