"The little fool!" she murmured pettishly. "Does she think that I am to
be murdered that she may fatten on sighs? Oh, come up, Madame, you must
be dragged out of this!" And she started briskly towards the alders,
intent on gaining company as quickly as possible.
She had gone about fifty yards, and had as many more to traverse when she
halted. A man, bent double, was moving stealthily along the farther side
of the brook, a little in front of her. Now she saw him, now she lost
him; now she caught a glimpse of him again, through a screen of willow
branches. He moved with the utmost caution, as a man moves who is
pursued or in danger; and for a moment she deemed him a peasant whom the
bathers had disturbed and who was bent on escaping. But when he came
opposite to the alder-bed she saw that that was his point, for he
crouched down, sheltered by a willow, and gazed eagerly among the trees,
always with his back to her; and then he waved his hand to some one in
the wood.
Madame St. Lo drew in her breath. As if he had heard the sound--which
was impossible--the man dropped down where he stood, crawled a yard or
two on his face, and disappeared.
Madame stared a moment, expecting to see him or hear him. Then, as
nothing happened, she screamed. She was a woman of quick impulses,
essentially feminine; and she screamed three or four times, standing
where she was, her eyes on the edge of the wood. "If that does not bring
her out, nothing will!" she thought.
It brought her. An instant, and the Countess appeared, and hurried in
dismay to her side.
"What is it?" the younger woman asked, glancing over her shoulder; for
all the valley, all the hills were peaceful, and behind Madame St. Lo--but
the lady had not discovered it--the servants who had returned were laying
the meal. "What is it?" she repeated anxiously.
"Who was it?" Madame St. Lo asked curtly. She was quite calm now.
"Who was--who?"
"The man in the wood?"
The Countess stared a moment, then laughed. "Only the old soldier they
call Badelon, gathering simples. Did you think that he would harm me?"
"It was not old Badelon whom I saw!" Madame St. Lo retorted. "It was a
younger man, who crept along the other side of the brook, keeping under
cover. When I first saw him he was there," she continued, pointing to
the place. "And he crept on and on until he came opposite to you. Then
he waved his hand."
"To me?"
Madame nodded.
"But if you saw him, who was he?" the Countess asked.
"I did not see his face," Madame St. Lo answered. "But he waved to you.
That I saw."