"Ah! such a sacrifice, little sister, and for an ingrate, into the bargain! Upon my word, you might bestow your favors to better purpose." "What will they say to each other, now they are together? What will they do?" "Faith, dear Nanon, you embarrass me sorely by putting such a question to me; they will--_pardieu!_ they will love each other dearly, I suppose." "Oh! that shall not be!" cried Nanon, frantically gnawing at her nails, which shone like polished ivory. "On the contrary, I fancy that it will be," rejoined Cauvignac. "Ferguzon has orders to let no one come out, but not to keep anybody out. At this moment, in all probability, the viscountess and Baron de Canolles are exchanging all sorts of endearing terms, each more charming than the last. _Peste!_ dear Nanon, you are too late." "Do you think so?" retorted the young woman with an indefinable expression of irony and malignant cunning; "do you think so? Very good; just come in and sit beside me, you wretched diplomatist." Cauvignac obeyed. "Bertrand," said Nanon to one of her retainers, "tell the coachman to turn quietly about, and draw up under the clump of trees we left at the right as we entered the village.--Won't that be a safe place to talk?" she asked Cauvignac. "There could be no better. But permit me to take a few precautions on my own account." "Go on." Cauvignac made signs to four of his men, who were strutting about the inn, buzzing and puffing like hornets in the sun, to follow him. "You do well to take those men," said Nanon, "and if you follow my advice you will take six rather than four; there may be work cut out for them." "Good!" said Cauvignac; "work of that kind is what I want." "Then you will be content," said Nanon. The coachman turned the carriage, and drove away, with Nanon, red with the flame of her thoughts, and Cauvignac, apparently calm and cold, but ready, nevertheless, to lend an attentive ear to his sister's suggestions. Meanwhile, Canolles, attracted by the joyous cry uttered by Madame de Cambes when she caught sight of him, had darted into the inn, and to the viscountess's room, without noticing Ferguzon, whom he passed in the corridor, but who made no objection to his entering, as he had received no instructions concerning him. "Ah! monsieur," cried Madame de Cambes, "come in quickly; I have been so impatient for you to come!" "Those words would make me the happiest man in the world, madame, if your pallor and your evident distress did not tell me as plainly as words could do that you were not expecting me for myself alone." "Yes, monsieur, you are right," said Claire with her charming smile, "and I desire to lay myself under still greater obligation to you." "How so?" "By begging you to save me from some peril, I know not what, which threatens me." "Peril?" "Yes. Wait." She went to the door, and threw the bolt. "I have been recognized," she said, returning to Canolles. "By whom?"