But when Madame and Mademoiselle came down, they had eyes neither
for the flowers nor the room. They had heard that the Captain
was out beating the village and the woods for the fugitive, and
where I had looked for a comedy I found a tragedy. Madame's face
was so red with weeping that all her beauty was gone. She
started and shook at the slightest sound, and, unable to find any
words to answer my greeting, could only sink into a chair and sit
crying silently.
Mademoiselle was in a mood scarcely more cheerful. She did not
weep, but her manner was hard and fierce. She spoke absently,
and answered fretfully. Her eyes glittered, and she had the air
of straining her ears continually to catch some dreaded sound.
'There is no news, Monsieur?' she said as she took her seat.
And she shot a swift look at me.
'None, Mademoiselle.'
'They are searching the village?'
'I believe so.'
'Where is Clon?' This in a lower voice, and with a kind of
shrinking in her face.
I shook my head. 'I believe that they have him confined
somewhere. And Louis, too,' I said. 'But I have not seen either
of them.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182