Count Hannibal

Madame Carlat, then, went not a whit beyond the mark in her argument. But

Mademoiselle had made up her mind, and was not to be dissuaded.

"If I am to be Monsieur's wife," she said with quivering nostrils, "shall

I fear his servants?"

And opening the door herself, for the others would not, she called. The

man who answered was a Norman; and short of stature, and wrinkled and low-

browed of feature, with a thatch of hair and a full beard, he seemed the

embodiment of the women's apprehensions. Moreover, his patois of the

cider-land was little better than German to them; their southern, softer

tongue was sheer Italian to him. But he seemed not ill-disposed, or

Mademoiselle's air overawed him; and presently she made him understand,

and with a nod he descended to carry her message.

Then Mademoiselle's heart began to beat; and beat more quickly when she

heard his step--alas! she knew it already, knew it from all others--on

the stairs. The table was set, the card must be played, to win or lose.

It might be that with the low opinion he held of women he would think her

reconciled to her lot; he would think this an overture, a step towards

kinder treatment, one more proof of the inconstancy of the lower and the

weaker sex, made to be men's playthings. And at that thought her eyes

grew hot with rage. But if it were so, she must still put up with it.

She must still put up with it! She had sent for him, and he was

coming--he was at the door!

He entered, and she breathed more freely. For once his face lacked the

sneer, the look of smiling possession, which she had come to know and

hate. It was grave, expectant, even suspicious; still harsh and dark,

akin, as she now observed, to the low-browed, furrowed face of the rider

who had summoned him. But the offensive look was gone, and she could

breathe.

He closed the door behind him, but he did not advance into the room.

"At your pleasure, Mademoiselle?" he said simply. "You sent for me, I

think."

She was on her feet, standing before him with something of the

submissiveness of Roxana before her conqueror.

"I did," she said; and stopped at that, her hand to her side as if she

could not continue. But presently in a low voice, "I have heard," she

went on, "what you said, Monsieur, after I lost consciousness."

"Yes?" he said; and was silent. Nor did he lose his watchful look.

"I am obliged to you for your thought of me," she continued in a faint

voice, "and I shall be still further obliged--I speak to you thus quickly

and thus early--if you will grant me a somewhat longer time."