Now I was suddenly brought face to face with the question, What was my duty? Was it to stay at home and permit these scoundrels to have their way unquestioned? Was it not rather to join the army of La Vendée and add my atom to its strength, to do what in me lay to render that campaign against the cannibals at Paris not a dream but a reality? For at last I understood. Those hideous tales were true. The fair land of France lay at the mercy of the vilest of her people---- “Still pondering the riddle?” asked my companion; and I turned to find her again regarding me with a provoking scrutiny. “No, mademoiselle,” I said. “I was thinking that when M. le Comte rides back to the Bocage I will accompany him.” Her eyes flashed a swift approval. “That is a man’s place!” she said. “That is where I would be, were I a man!” “You will wish me God-speed, then?” I questioned. “Yes--provided, of course,” she added, looking at me searchingly, “that you are free to go.” “Free to go!” I repeated, and my chin fell on my breast. What instinct was it gave her this power to stab home whenever she chose? “Then you are not free to go?” she queried, eyeing me still more closely. “I confess,” I stammered, “that it was not to don a white cockade I left Beaufort.” “But surely any mere personal matter of business may be put aside when one’s country calls!” “Alas!” I murmured, “this is not an affair of that nature.” “Well,” she said coolly, “you must of course decide for yourself, monsieur; more especially since you seem to wish to shroud yourself in a veil of mystery.” “Mademoiselle,” I said desperately, “I should like your advice.” “But I understand nothing of the matter.” “You shall understand, if you will do me the honor to hear me.” “Would not M. le Comte’s advice be of more service?” she asked with a sudden trepidation which surprised me. “No,” I said, decidedly, “not in this instance. I hope you will not refuse me.” She glanced at my anxious face and smiled curiously. “Very well,” she assented. “Proceed, then.” “O, not here!” I protested, with a glance at the others. “Perhaps after dinner, mademoiselle, you will walk with me in the garden.” “In the garden?” she repeated, in an astonished tone, and looked at me with lifted brows. “I know that it is a great favor I am asking,” I continued hastily. “Yes, it is more than that,” she broke in sharply. “It is not convenable. What strange customs you must have at Beaufort, monsieur! Are the young ladies there accustomed to grant such requests?” “I do not know,” I answered miserably. “I have never before preferred such a one. I am not familiar with etiquette--with the nice rules of conduct. If I have done wrong, forgive me.” I saw her glance at me quickly from the corner of her eye, and my heart grew bolder. “It is a beautiful garden,” I went on. “I saw it this evening from my window. There are paths, seats----” “I am familiar with the garden, monsieur,” she interposed dryly.