And she stood with one hand stretched out behind her pointing toward the estuary, which was quiet enough now, looking up at him with that strange anger or new disquietude--it was hard to tell which--glowing in her eyes. The wind fluttered her hair, which was tied low down with a ribbon in the mode named “a la diable” by some French wit with a sore heart in an old man's breast. For none other could have so aptly described it. “All chance, mademoiselle,” he answered, looking over her head toward the river. “And it would have been the same had it been only Marie or Marie and Jean in the boat with you?” “The boat would have been as solid and the ropes as strong.” “And you?” asked the girl, with a glance from her persistent eyes. “Oh no!” he answered, with a laugh. “I should not have been the same. But you must not continue to stand there, mademoiselle; the wall is unsafe.” She shrugged her shoulders and stood with half-averted face, looking down at the vineyards which stretched away to the dunes by the river. Her cheeks were oddly flushed. “Your father sent me to say so,” continued Loo, “and if he sees that you take no heed he will come himself to learn why.” Juliette gave a curt laugh and climbed the declivity toward him. The argument was, it seemed, a sound one. When she reached his level he made a step or two along the path that ran round the enceinte--not toward the house, however--but away from it. She accepted the tacit suggestion, not tacitly, however. “Shall we not go and tell papa we have returned without mishap?” she amended, with a light laugh. “No, mademoiselle,” he answered. It was his turn to be grave now and she glanced at him with a gleam of satisfaction beneath her lids. She was not content with that, however, but wished to make him angry. So she laughed again and they would have quarrelled if he had not kept his lips firmly closed and looked straight in front of him. They passed between the unfinished ruin known as the Italian house and the rampart. The Italian house screened them from the windows of that portion of the ancient stabling which the Marquis had made habitable when he bought back the chateau of Gemosac from the descendant of an adventurous republican to whom the estate had been awarded in the days of the Terror. A walk of lime-trees bordered that part of the garden which lies to the west of the Italian house, and no other part was visible from where Juliette paused to watch the sun sink below the distant horizon. Loo was walking a few paces behind her, and when she stopped he stopped also. She sat down on the low wall, but he remained standing.