Whereupon he again drew the girl to him under the shade of the acacias and kissed her long and fondly. CHAPTER XII The Duchesse de Castellucchio awoke the next morning an hour after daybreak, which, at this late summer period, took place at about five o'clock, and, since it was her intention to set out early that day for Geneva, thence to commence her journey over the St. Bernard, she called out at once to Jacquette to summon her maid. Then, that being done, Jacquette herself appeared from the adjoining room enveloped in her _robe de chamber_ and asked madame how she had slept that night. "Excellently well," Hortense said, sitting up in her bed, and presenting a charming sight to the girl--who, however, had seen it often enough before--since her long hair streamed down over her lace-adorned night attire until it mingled with the great bear-skin thrown over the bed. "Excellently. A quieter neighbour than Monsieur West next door no traveller need wish to have. The young man moves not, neither does he have the nightmare. A pretty youth is Humphrey, with soft and gentle manners even in his sleep, it would seem. And you, child, have you too slept well?" "Nay, madame, none too well. I was not drowsy and, when I slept at last, I dreamed. Horrible dreams, madame, of swords and rapiers, and, oh!--of blood being shed. Yet I know not wherefore I should have dreamed thus. The house was peaceful, no travellers arrived in the night, there was no sound to startle sleep; nothing to tease a would-be sleeper but the noise of that river rushing on and on and swirling past the crazy wooden bridge in front of us." "It may be your rest was disturbed by some haunting recollection in your brain of the journey that lies before us. Well! it has to be taken; we cannot abide in this gloomy old place for ever. Therefore, Jacquette, let us prepare for the day. Bid Suzanne go get my chocolate ready, forgetting not to put a glass of ratafia in it; and knock on the wall, child, and arouse that slumbering lover of yours. 'Tis time he awoke and, awaking, should bid La Truaumont also leave his bed, since he too, in his turn, must awaken those two brigands who ride with us and of whom, _Dio mio!_ I like the look none too well." Obedient to Hortense's order Jacquette crossed to the other side of the room and, feeling under the tapestry for the spot where she knew the closed and heavily bolted door to be, rapped on it with her knuckles, while saying, "Humphrey, arise! The clocks have struck seven. Awake, sluggard!" But there came no answer to her summons. All was as still as though she had knocked at, and spoken to, an empty room. "Knock again," the Duchess said. "_Basta!_ how the young man sleeps."