She still had on the gown
of pale green that she had worn earlier in the evening. Her head was
uncovered, her hair in some disorder, and this, with the pallor of her
face and the fright in her wide-open eyes, gave her some wildness of
appearance. It was De Berquin's piercing death-cry that had blanched her
cheek and made her clutch Blaise's arm.
"You have killed him!" she said, in a voice little above a whisper.
"You ought not to be here, mademoiselle," I replied.
"From my chamber window I saw you talking with M. de Berquin. What he
said I know not, but you drew your sword and went away with him. I
waited for a long time in anxiety until I heard the sound of swords. I
came down, and would have gone to beg you to stop, but when I heard
that awful shriek I could not go any further. Oh, monsieur, you have
killed him!"
"He brought it on himself, mademoiselle," was all that I could say.
And here Blaise did what I thought a strange and presumptuous thing.
He approached mademoiselle, and, looking her keenly in the eyes,
said, gravely:
"He said that you came from the governor of the province to betray M. de
la Tournoire!"
"Blaise!" I cried, in great astonishment and anger. "How dare you even
utter the calumny he spoke? Go you and look to the disposal of his body."
And I motioned him away with a wrathful gesture.
He looked frowningly at mademoiselle and then at me, and went off, with a
shrug of his shoulders, to the place where De Berquin lay.
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