figures in white came out to meet me. At first I did not observe—I had enough to do keeping my eyes open—that they were the Mlles. de Lambert.
"God save us!" I heard one of them say. "He is hurt; he is pale. See the blood running off his boot-leg."
Then, as one took the bit, the other eased me down from my saddle, calling loudly for help. She took her handkerchief—that had a perfume I have not yet forgotten—as she supported me, and wiped the sweat and dust from my face. Then I saw they were the splendid young ladies I had seen at the count's table. The discovery put new life in me; it was like a dash of water in the face. I lifted my hat and bowed to them.
"Ladies, my thanks to you," I said in as good French as I knew. "I have been shot. May I ask you to send for a doctor?"
A butler ran down the steps; a gardener and a stable-boy hurried out of the grove.
"To the big room—the Louis-Quinze," said one of the girls, excitedly, as the men came to my help.
