The Duke and I both love your cousin. One of
us must lose. Just now I repulsed the Duke so rudely that he could
have demanded satisfaction, but I foresee that he will let it pass.
That attitude, so unusual to his temperament, proves that he wants to
avoid scandal. Why? What is his object?"
"I don't know," said Maurice. "He has gone riding in the forest,
probably to calm his nerves with solitude. He loves your fiancee, but
his honour forces him to respect her."
"Perhaps," said Albert.
"I think," said Maurice, "that we should all leave this evening or
to-morrow morning at the latest. Esperance is not ill, only worn out.
She is easily exhausted."
"And if she loves the Duke?" pursued the Count.
"Then it is my place to ask you what you are going to do about it?"
Albert was silent a minute, then raising his pale face, answered
slowly: "If she loves the Duke, I shall have to ask him what are his
intentions; and if, as I believe, he wishes to marry her, I shall die
a Chartist!"
The third gong vibrated, announcing lunch.
After lunch, Albert, Maurice, Jean, and Genevieve settled themselves
under a great oak, which was said to have been planted by a delightful
little Duchess of Castel-Montjoie, who had been celebrated at Court
during the Regency. A marble table and a heavy circular bench made
this wild corner quite cosy, and sheltered from the sun and from the
curious. The tree was just opposite the tower where Esperance was
sleeping so deeply, and Mlle.
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