Maurice resumed his berry picking.
"What exquisite tints in the skies!" went on the voice; "what
matchless color in the forests!"
Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a
good berry.
"But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die
suddenly, or be thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from
all these splendid reaches?"
Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it.
Instinctively he turned--and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold
and gray as new steel.
"That," said he, "sounds like a threat."
"And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?"
"If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know
too much. I suspected from the first; the picture merely
confirmed my suspicions. I see now that it was thoughtless in me
not to have told my friend; but it is not too late."
"And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?"
"Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particular
consideration." Then, as if the conversation was not interesting
him, he returned to the berries. "There's a fine one there. It's
a little high; but then!" He tiptoed, drew the branch from the
wall, and snatched the luscious fruit.
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