Was it, then, of Mlle. de Varion that he had been talking?
Montignac, of course, having witnessed the interview between mademoiselle
and the governor, had learned her name. It must have been he who had
communicated it to De Berquin. Had the subtle secretary entrusted the
unscrupulous cavalier with some commission relative to mademoiselle, as
well as with the task of betraying me? It was in vain that I tried to
find satisfactory answers to these questions.
I asked mademoiselle whether she had ever known Montignac before this
day.
"Never," she answered, with a kind of shudder, which seemed to express
both abhorrence and fear. Again she grew reticent; again the shadow and
the look of confusion appeared on her face. I could make nothing of these
signs. To attempt a solution by interrogating her was only to cause her
pain, and rather than do that I preferred to remain mystified.
Once more mademoiselle cast an uneasy look at the riders in the
distance rearward.
"Ah!" said I, with a smile, "you have no fear for yourself, yet you
continue to look back with an expression that very nearly resembles that
of fright."
"I do not fear for myself," she said, quite artlessly; "it is for you
that I fear. M. de Berquin will surely try to revenge himself for the
humiliation you gave him."
A joyous thrill sent the blood to my cheeks. Without disguising my
feelings, I turned and looked at her.
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