'Because from to-day I would fain begin to be honourable,' I
answered in a low voice. 'Because I dare not be generous at
another's cost. I must go back whence I came.'
'To the Chatelet?' she muttered.
'Yes, Mademoiselle, to the Chatelet.'
She tried feverishly to raise her mask with her hand.
'I am not well,' she stammered. 'I cannot breathe.'
And she began to sway so violently in her saddle that I sprang
down, and, running round her horse's head, was just in time to
catch her as she fell. She was not quite unconscious then, for
as I supported her, she cried out,--
'Do not touch me! Do not touch me! You kill me with shame!'
But as she spoke she clung to me; and I made no mistake. Those
words made me happy. I carried her to the bank, my heart on
fire, and laid her against it just as M. de Cocheforet rode up.
He sprang from his horse, his eyes blazing, 'What is this?' he
cried. 'What have you been saying to her, man?'
'She will tell you,' I answered drily, my composure returning
under his eye. 'Amongst other things, that you are free. From
this moment, M.
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