“Why, you are a wizard, M. de Tavernay!” she cried when the hamper was empty. “Here is a feast fit for a king. That girl must have fallen desperately in love with you! A real passion! Poor creature!” “I posed as a Republican,” I explained. “She is a good patriot and anxious to serve the Nation.” “Especially when it is personified by a handsome and gallant fellow,” she amended. “No matter; I am not jealous. Indeed I have no right to be. But I wonder what the betrothed would say? Rest easy; she shall never know, I promise you that. And now, if you will draw the corks, we are ready to begin.” “I am glad to see you in such spirits,” I remarked with irony as I got out my knife. “It is so much pleasanter than being dull and gloomy, is it not?” she agreed. “You remind me of a red Indian,” I continued as I drew the corks, “dancing around his captive and burying a barb in his flesh from time to time just to see his anguish.” “Well,” she retorted, “I am going to treat you as no red Indian ever treated a captive. Sit down and share the feast.” “But I have already eaten,” I protested. Nevertheless I sat down in the place she indicated. “Besides, my fright when I found you gone killed any return of appetite.” “Were you really frightened?” “Horribly!” “I know what you need--a draught of wine.” “If you will drink first,” I agreed. She raised a bottle to her lips, then handed it to me. “You were right,” I said, as I put it down. “That was really what I needed. My heart is bounding again, though perhaps not wholly from the wine.” She smiled as she looked at me. “Whatever the cause, I am glad to see you more like yourself. And now you will eat--I detest eating alone.” “I will try,” I said; but I confess I found eating a difficult task with that vision across from me. “Did you learn where we are?” she asked at last. “The village is called Dairon. We are about four leagues from Thouars, where the Blues are in force. We must get past them somehow to Coulonges, a league beyond, where we shall find friends.” “And we must wait until to-night to go forward?” “Till twilight, at least.” “We should get to Coulonges to-night, then?” “Yes,” I answered with a sinking heart at the thought that my dream was to end so soon. “If all goes well we should reach Coulonges by midnight.” “You actually say that in a tone of despondency!” “And do you see in it nothing to regret, mademoiselle?” “To regret? Assuredly not! Shall you regret being in safety?” “Danger is not the worst thing that can befall a man,” I said, “more especially----” “Well?” she questioned tantalizingly as I hesitated. I leaned across the cloth and caught her hands and held them prisoner.