"Have you no welcome, Madame?"
"My husband's friends," she said, "were not always mine; and I see no
reason why you should continue further to address me."
"De Brissac? Bah! I was never his friend."
"So much the more doubt upon your honesty;" and she moved as if to pass.
"Madame, D'Halluys told me this morning that he is determined that you
shall be his wife."
"The vicomte's confidence is altogether too large." She laughed, and
made another ineffectual attempt to pass. "Monsieur, you are detaining
me."
"That is correct. I have much to say to you. In the first place, you
played us all for a pack of fools, and all the while you were carrying
on an intrigue with that fellow who calls himself the Chevalier du
Cévennes."
Madame's lips closed firmly, and a circle of color spotted her cheeks.
There had been times recently when she regretted De Brissac's death.
"What have you to say, Madame?" he demanded.
"To you? Nothing, save that if you do not at once stand aside I shall
call for aid. Your impertinence is even greater than Monsieur
d'Halluys'. I wonder at your courage in thus addressing me."
"I am not a patient man, Madame," coming closer. "I have publicly
vowed my love for you, and Heaven nor hell shall keep me from you."
"Not even myself? Come, Monsieur," wrathfully, "you are acting like a
fool or a boy. Women such as I am are not won in this braggart
fashion. Certainly you must admit that I have something to say in
regard to the disposition of my hand. And let me say this at once: I
shall wed no man; and were either you or Monsieur le Comte the last man
in the world, I should run away and hide. Stand aside."
"And if I should use force?" throwing aside the reins of self-control.
"Force, force!" flinging wide her hands; "you speak to me of force!
Monsieur, you are not a fool, but a madman."
"But we are still tender toward the Chevalier?" snarling.
"The least I can say of Monsieur le Chevalier is that he is a
gentleman."
"A gentleman? Ho! that is rich. A gentleman!"
The path was at this point almost too narrow for her to walk around
him; so she waited without replying.
"And do not forget, Madame, that you are a fugitive from justice, and
that a word to Monsieur de Lauson . . ."
"I dare you to speak, Monsieur," with growing anger. "Have you no
bogus paper to hold over my head? Are you about to play the vicomte's
trick second-hand?"
"I know nothing about his tricks, but I shall kill him at an early
date."
Madame's shrug said plainly that it mattered nothing to her. "Once
more, will you stand aside, or must I call?"