There had, then, been a mission, and it
had to do with herself and the governor! As this horrible idea filled my
mind, I felt a kind of sinking, and as if the very earth trembled beneath
me. But then I thought of mademoiselle's sweet face, and I hurled the
dark thought from me, amazed that I could have held it for an instant.
"It is not true!" I cried, loudly. "By God, it is not true! I'll not
believe it! She has not gone! She is in her chamber yonder!" And I went
and stood beneath her window. "Mademoiselle! Come to the window! Tell us
that the boy lies or is deluded! Mademoiselle, I say!"
But no face appeared at the window--that window up to which I had looked
a few moments before while I sat on the bench, thinking that my love was
behind it.
And now Blaise came running out of the chateau. He stopped on the steps.
"She is not there," he said. "I found only the maid, wailing out prayers
to a Catholic saint!"
So she was really gone--gone! She must have left while I was
interrogating De Berquin's three henchmen in their cell or while I had
stood with Blaise in the garden, reproving him for his suspicions of her.
"And because he assailed her loyalty I killed that man!" I said aloud,
forgetful, for the time, of the presence of Blaise and Frojac, Maugert,
Hugo, and the gypsy girl. All these stood in silence, not knowing what to
do or say, awaiting some order or sign from me.
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