I was forced to retrace my steps, and before I had regained the point where
I had gone astray a precious quarter of an hour was wasted, and the sun
already hung, a dull red globe, on the brink of the horizon.
Clenching my teeth, I tore at my horse's flanks, and with a bloody heel I
drove the maddened brute along at a pace that might have cost us both
dearly. I dashed, at last, into the quadrangle, and, throwing the reins to
a gaping groom, I sprang up the steps.
"Has the Chevalier returned?" I gasped breathlessly.
"Not yet, Monsieur," answered Guilbert with a tranquillity that made me
desire to strangle him. "Is Mademoiselle in the ch?teau?" was my next
question, mechanically asked.
"I saw her on the terrace some moments ago. She has not since come
within."
Like one possessed I flew across the intervening room and out on to the
terrace. Genevi?ve and Andrea were walking there, deep in conversation.
At another time I might have cursed their lack of prudence. At the moment
I did not so much as remark it.
"Where is Mademoiselle de Canaples?" I burst out.
They gazed at me, as much astounded by my question and the abruptness of it
as by my apparent agitation.
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