She dropped her eyes before the passion of my gaze. And when presently she answered me, there was no guile in her words; there were the dictates of the intuitions of her sex, and nothing more.
"But it is possible, monsieur. You are accustomed to the great world--"
"The great world of Lesperon, in Gascony?" I interrupted.
"No, no; the great world you have inhabited at Paris and elsewhere. I can understand that at Lavedan you should find little of interest, and--and that your inactivity should render you impatient to be gone."
"If there were so little to interest me then it might be as you say. But, oh, mademoiselle--" I ceased abruptly. Fool! I had almost fallen a prey to the seductions that the time afforded me. The balmy, languorous eventide, the broad, smooth river down which we glided, the foliage, the shadows on the water, her presence, and our isolation amid such surroundings, had almost blotted out the matter of the wager and of my duplicity.
She laughed a little nervous laugh, and--maybe to ease the tension that my sudden silence had begotten--"You see," she said, "how your imagination deserts you when you seek to draw upon it for proof of what you protest. You were about to tell me of--of the interests that hold you at Lavedan, and when you come to ponder them, you find that you can think of nothing. Is it--is it not so?" She put the question very timidly, as if half afraid of the answer she might provoke.
"No; it is not so," I said.
I paused a moment, and in that moment I wrestled with myself. Confession and avowal--confession of what I had undertaken, and avowal of the love that had so unexpectedly come to me--trembled upon my lips, to be driven shuddering away in fear.
Have I not said that this Bardelys was become a coward? Then my cowardice suggested a course to me--flight. I would leave Lavedan. I would return to Paris and to Chatellerault, owning defeat and paying my wager. It was the only course open to me. My honour, so tardily aroused, demanded no less. Yet, not so much because of that as because it was suddenly revealed to me as the easier course, did I determine to pursue it. What thereafter might become of me I did not know, nor in that hour of my heart's agony did it seem to matter overmuch.
"There is much, mademoiselle, much, indeed, to hold me firmly at Lavedan," I pursued at last. "But my--my obligations demand of me that I depart."
"You mean the Cause," she cried. "But, believe me, you can do nothing. To sacrifice yourself cannot profit it. Infinitely better you can serve the Duke by waiting until the time is ripe for another blow. And how can you better preserve your life than by remaining at Lavedan until the persecutions are at an end?"