"I? Angry? You are dreaming!" "I thought you were angry, because you changed colour and would not speak again--" "You were wrong. Only a fool can be angry with ignorance." "Why do you call me ignorant? These are all riddles." "And you are not good at guessing. Come! To show you that I was not angry, I will have you walk with me down through the village. It is growing late." "Your Grace is alone?" "Since you followed me, you know it. Come." She almost pushed him aside to pass out, and a moment later they were crossing the dark open space before the church. Gilbert was not easily surprised, but when he reflected that he was walking late at night through a small French village with one of the most powerful sovereigns in Europe, who was at the same time the most beautiful of living women, he realized that his destiny was not leading him by common paths. He remembered his own surprise when, an hour earlier, he had seen the Queen's unmistakable figure pass the open window of his lodging. And yet should any one see her now, abroad at such an hour, in the company of a young Englishman, there would be much more matter for astonishment. Half boyishly he wished that he were not himself, or else that the Queen were Beatrix. As for his actual position in the Queen's good graces, he had not the slightest understanding of it, a fact which just then amused Eleanor almost as much as it irritated her. The road was uneven and steep beyond the little square. For some moments they walked side by side in silence. From far away came the sound of many rough voices singing a drinking-chorus. "Give me your arm," said Eleanor, suddenly. As she spoke, she put out her hand, as if she feared to stumble. Doing as she begged him, Gilbert suited his steps to hers, and they were very close together as they went on. He had never walked arm in arm in that way before, nor perhaps had he ever been so close to any other woman. An indescribable sensation took possession of him; he felt that his step was less steady, and that his head was growing hot and his hands cold; and somehow he knew that whereas the idea of love was altogether beyond and out of the question, yet he was spellbound in the charm of a new and mysterious attraction. With it there was the instantaneous certainty that it was evil, with the equally sure knowledge that if it grew upon him but a few moments longer he should not be able to resist it. Eleanor would not have been a woman had she not understood. "What is the matter?" she asked gently, and under her hood she was smiling. "The matter?" Gilbert spoke nervously. "There is nothing the matter; why do you ask?" "Your arm trembled," answered the Queen. "I suppose I was afraid that you were going to fall." At this the Queen laughed aloud. "Are you so anxious for my safety as that?" she inquired. Gilbert did not answer at once. "It seems so strange," he said at last, "that your Grace should choose to be abroad alone so late at night."