She lifted her eyebrows slightly and laughed. “I see no reason why you should not have come, monsieur--will you permit me?” and she made as if to open the letter. She was so cool, so calm, so utterly self possessed, that it brought me to myself. She had forgotten the old glove--well, so could I. The past was dead. I was given to understand that, in the subtle, indescribable way that only a woman can, and I took my cue. Her hand was on the seal to break open the letter when I arrested her. “One moment, madame--perhaps you had better hear my message before reading the letter.” “Is it anything serious? Nothing has happened to Marcilly?” I winced at the eager ring in her voice. “Nothing has happened, but what I have to say is serious enough”; and then, as we walked the length of the terrace and back, I put the matter to her, talking as if we were but acquaintances; and as we stood once more at the steps she said: “Monsieur, I will meet you in two hours’ time on the parvis of St. Pierre.” “That will do--but be well mounted, madame--we may have to ride.” I bowed as I took my leave, but this time she extended her hand, and, touching it with mine, I left her there. As I walked up the steps I could hear the crackling of the paper as she tore open the seals of her letter; but I would not trust myself to look again. When I had gained the corridor, I could find no trace of Lorgnac, so, after a glance around, I strolled leisurely out, and mounting my horse, rode in the direction of the Martroi, going by the Escures, so as to pass St. Pierre on the way. I was still smarting from the effects of the words I had heard. My mind, unhinged and incapable of reason, took a sullen pleasure in recalling them and in anticipating the payment I would exact for my tortures. Wrapped in these thoughts, I took no notice of anything around, and had come opposite St. Pierre without observing it, when I heard the grating voice of Richelieu. “Monsieur de Vibrac!” and he had steadied his horse alongside of mine. “As you perceive, monsieur,” I answered coldly, a fierce joy swelling in my heart at the thought that here was one, at least, upon whom my pent-up wrath could break. “You were good enough, monsieur, to observe last night that you would like to hear a word from me.” “Now, if you like,” and I looked him full in the face. “Nothing would suit me better but for the Edict, and there are a dozen or more of Monsieur de Cipierre’s bees about, who would soon interrupt us.” “You would rather not go on then?” I inquired with a sneer, and his brown cheek flushed. “On the contrary, but the place is inconvenient. Would to-night suit you? There is a full moon.” “Nothing better; but I must ask you the favor of making your time fit in with mine, as I have an engagement to-night.” “And so have I, but at a somewhat late hour. Would nine suit you?” “Excellently, monsieur, and there is good ground behind Ste. Croix, I believe.”