"Indeed!" replied the vicomte coolly; "and how do you account for
that?" He spoke with that good nature which deceives only those who are
not banterers themselves.
"It is not necessary to particularize," proudly, "to a gentleman of
your wide accomplishments."
"Monsieur de Saumaise, your servant," said the vicomte. "Ladies, I beg
of you to accept my apologies. I admit the extent of my rudeness,
Mademoiselle." He bowed and turned away, leaving Victor puzzled and
diffident.
"Mademoiselle de Vaudemont," he said, "is it possible that I see you
here in Rochelle?" How his heart beat at the sight of that figure
standing by the mantel.
"And you, Monsieur; what are you doing here?"
"I am contemplating a journey to Spain," carelessly.
"Success to your journey," said Anne, frankly holding out a hand. But
she was visibly distressed as she glanced at her companion. "Is the
Vicomte d'Halluys going to Spain also?" smiling.
Victor shrugged. "He professes to have business in Quebec. That
beautiful Paris has grown so unhealthy!"
"Quebec?" The woman in the grey mask spun on her heels. "Monsieur,
did I hear you say Quebec?"
"Yes, Madame la Comtesse."
The grey mask made a gesture of dissent. Presently she spoke.
"Monsieur, you have made a mistake. There is no Madame la Comtesse
here."
Victor did not reply.
"Do you hear, Monsieur?"
"Yes, Madame. Our eyes and ears sometimes deceive us, but never the
heart."
Madame flung out a hand in protest. "Never mind, Monsieur, what the
heart says; it is not worth while."
Victor grew pale. There was a double meaning to this sentence. Anne
eyed him anxiously.
A disturbance at the table caught Victor's ear. He saw that the
vicomte and the others were proceeding toward the stairs. The vicomte
was last to mount. At the landing he stopped, looked down at the group
by the chimney, shrugged, and went on.
Maître le Borgne came in from the kitchens. "If the ladies will follow
me I will conduct them to their rooms. A fire is under way. The wines
and brandy and sugar are on the table; and the warming-pan stands by
the chimney."
"Anne," said madame, "go you to the room with the host. I will follow
you shortly. I have something to say to Monsieur de Saumaise."
There was a decision in her tones which caused Victor to experience a
chill not devoid of dread. If only he could read the face behind the
mask!
Anne followed Maître le Borgne upstairs. Victor and madame were alone.
He waited patiently for her to speak. She devoted some moments
absently to crushing with her boot the stray pieces of charred wood
which littered the broad hearthstone.
"Victor," she said of a sudden, "forgive me!"
"Forgive you for what?"
"For innocently bringing this trouble upon you, for endangering your
head."