“M. de Tavernay,” she said in a provoking voice, keeping pace with me, “I should like to make you a wager.” “What is it?” I asked, none too gently. “That my prediction will come true,” she answered, laughing. “That you will fall madly in love with this lady--oh, desperately in love with her! and once you have safely married her will remember this youthful passion only with a smile. Come; the stake shall be anything you like.” This time I was thoroughly angry. Even if she did not love me she had no right to wound me, to stab me deliberately, maliciously, with a smile on her lips. She had no right to draw amusement from my sufferings, to torture me just for the pleasure of watching my agony. So I quickened my pace and strode on in silence, my hands clinched, trying to stifle the pain at my heart. A touch on my arm aroused me. “_Ciel!_” gasped a voice; and I turned to see my companion still at my side indeed, but spent and breathless. “Did you fancy these shoes of yours were seven-league boots?” she questioned when she could speak. “Or did you desire to abandon me out here in this wilderness?” “It would be no more than you deserve!” I retorted; then, as I remembered how fast I had been walking and pictured her uncomplaining struggle to keep pace with me, I relented. “Pardon me,” I said, humbly; “I am a brute. Come; sit here in the shadow of this tree and rest. We are beyond danger of pursuit--besides, no one can see us here.” She permitted me to lead her to the shadow and sat down. I leaned against the tree and stared moodily along the road. “What is it, monsieur?” she asked at last. “Still brooding on the future?” “No, mademoiselle,” I answered; “since it must be endured I shall waste no more thought upon it.” “That is wise,” she commended. “That is what I have advised from the first. Besides, you should remember it is when troubles are approaching that they appear most terrible.” “A thousand thanks,” I said dryly. “You are no doubt right.” “And then,” she added, “one grows morbid when one thinks too much of oneself.” “It was not wholly with myself I was occupied this time,” I said; “or at least with myself only in relation to you. I was thinking how unfit I am to take care of you; how little I merit the trust which M. le Comte reposed in me when he gave you into my keeping. I permit you to limp along behind me with bruised and wounded feet until you sink exhausted; I lead two scoundrels, whose pursuit I had foreseen, straight to your hiding-place and would have perished but for your courage and address; I stride along at top speed until you are ready to die of fatigue; I show myself a fool, a boor, and yet expect you to feel some kindness for me. Hereafter you will command this expedition; I am merely your servant; I am at your orders.” “Very well,” she responded instantly, “I accept. My first order is that you sit here beside me;” and she patted the spot with her hand.