least
like insanity; and last night, when the young fool who escorted me to
dinner, Coventry his name was, told me that every one says Sir Adrian
is shut up on the island and that his French servant is really his
keeper, and that it was a shame Rupert was not the eldest brother, I
quite saw the sort of story Master Rupert likes to spread--don't
interrupt, please! When you were wool-gathering over the fire last
night (in the lively and companionable way, permit me to remark in
parenthesis, that you have adopted of late), and you thought I was
with Tanty, I had marched off with my flat candlestick to the picture
gallery to have a good look at the so-called lunatic. I dragged over a
chair and lit the candles in the candelabra each side of the
chimney-piece, and then standing on my perch still, I held up my own
torch and I saw the sailor really well. I think he has a beautiful
face and that he is no more mad than I am. But he looks so sad, so
sad! I longed to make those closed lips part and tell me their secret.
And, as I was looking and dreaming, my dear, just as you might, I
heard a little noise, and there was Rupert, only a few yards off,
surveying me with such an angry gaze--Ugh!" (with a shiver) "I hate
such ways. He came in upon me with soft steps like some animal. Look
at his portrait there, Madeleine!--Stay! I shall hold up the light as
I did last night to Sir Adrian--see, it flickers and glimmers and
makes him seem as if he were alive--oh, I wish he were not hanging in
front of our beds, staring out at us with those eyes! You think them
very fine, I daresay, that is because his lashes are as thick and dark
as a woman's--but the look in them, my dear--do you know what it
reminds me of? Of the beautiful, cruel greyhound we saw at the
coursing at that place near Bunratty (you remember, just before they
started the hare), when he stood for a moment motionless, looking out
across the plain. I can never forget the expression of those
yellow-circled eyes. And, when I see Rupert look at you as if he were
fixing something in the far distance, it gives me just the feeling of
horror and sickness I had then. (You remember how dreadful it was?)
Rupert makes me think of a greyhound, altogether he is so lithe and so
clean-cut, and so full of eagerness, a sort of trembling eagerness
underneath his seeming quiet, and I think he could be cruel."

Molly paused with an unusually grave and reflective look; Madeleine
yawned a little,