Of him she sat thinking by the hour together. She recalled with solemn
tenderness the moment in which he had devoted himself to the death which
came but halfway to seize them; nor was she slow to forgive his
subsequent withdrawal, and his attempt to rescue her in spite of herself.
She found the impulse to die glorious; the withdrawal--for the actor was
her lover--a thing done for her, which he would not have done for
himself, and which she quickly forgave him. The revulsion of feeling
which had conquered her at the time, and led her to tear herself from
him, no longer moved her much while all in his action that might have
seemed in other eyes less than heroic, all in his conduct--in a crisis
demanding the highest--that smacked of common or mean, vanished, for she
still clung to him. Clung to him, not so much with the passion of the
mature woman, as with the maiden and sentimental affection of one who has
now no hope of possessing, and for whom love no longer spells life, but
sacrifice.
She had leisure for these musings, for she was left to herself all that
day, and until late on the following day. Her own servants waited on
her, and it was known that below stairs Count Hannibal's riders kept
sullen ward behind barred doors and shuttered windows, refusing admission
to all who came. Now and again echoes of the riot which filled the
streets with bloodshed reached her ears: or word of the more striking
occurrences was brought to her by Madame Carlat. And early on this
second day, Monday, it was whispered that M. de Tavannes had not
returned, and that the men below were growing uneasy.
At last, when the suspense below and above was growing tense, it was
broken. Footsteps and voices were heard ascending the stairs, the
trampling and hubbub were followed by a heavy knock; perforce the door
was opened. While Mademoiselle, who had risen, awaited with a beating
heart she knew not what, a cowled father, in the dress of the monks of
St. Magloire, stood on the threshold, and, crossing himself, muttered the
words of benediction. He entered slowly.
No sight could have been more dreadful to Mademoiselle; for it set at
naught the conditions which she had so hardly exacted. What if Count
Hannibal were behind, were even now mounting the stairs, prepared to
force her to a marriage before this shaveling? Or ready to proceed, if
she refused, to the last extremity? Sudden terror taking her by the
throat choked her; her colour fled, her hand flew to her breast. Yet,
before the door had closed on Bigot, she had recovered herself.
"This intrusion is not by M. de Tavannes' orders!" she cried, stepping
forward haughtily. "This person has no business here. How dare you
admit him?"