Mauprat
no fear; I know how to keep my word; and, as you are the daughter of a noble house, I hope you know how to keep yours."
She did not reply. We had reached a part of the road where it was only possible for two to walk abreast. The darkness was profound, and although the chevalier and the lieutenant-general were at our heels, I was going to make bold to put my arm round her waist, when she said to me, in a sad and weary voice:
"Cousin, forgive me for not talking to you. I'm afraid I did not quite understand what you said. I am so exhausted that I feel as if I were going to die. Luckily, we have reached home now. Promise me that you will love my father, that you will yield to all his wishes, that you will decide nothing without consulting me. Promise me this if you would have me believe in your friendship."
"Oh, my friendship? you are welcome not to believe in that," I answered; "but you must believe in my love. I promise everything you wish. And you, will you not promise me anything? Do, now, with a good grace."
"What can I promise that is not yours?" she said, in a serious tone. "You saved my honour; my life belongs to you."
The first glimmerings of dawn were now beginning to light the horizon. We had reached the village of Sainte-Sévère, and soon afterward we entered the courtyard of the château. On dismounting from her horse Edmée fell into her father's arms; she was as pale as death. M. de la Marche uttered a cry, and helped to carry her away. She had fainted. The curé took charge of me. I was very uneasy about my fate. The natural distrust of the brigand sprang up again as soon as I ceased to be under the spell of her who had managed
94
