I had never from the first
liked the work, but I had had no choice, and I had no choice now.
Luckily, the guise in which I came, my fatigue, and wound were a
sufficient mask, or I should have incurred suspicion at once.
For I am sure that if ever in this world a brave man wore a hang-
dog air, or Gil de Berault fell below himself, it was then and
there--on Madame de Cocheforet's threshold, with her welcome
sounding in my ears.
One, I think, did suspect me. Clon, the porter, continued to
hold the door obstinately ajar and to eye me with grinning spite,
until his mistress, with some sharpness, bade him drop the bars
and conduct me to a room.
'Do you go also, Louis,' she continued, speaking to the man
beside her, 'and see this gentleman comfortably disposed. I am
sorry,' she added, addressing me in the graceful tone she had
before used, and I thought that I could see her head bend in the
darkness, 'that our present circumstances do not permit us to
welcome you more fitly, Monsieur. But the troubles of the times
--however, you will excuse what is lacking. Until to-morrow, I
have the honour to bid you good-night.
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