e after that, but returned to the house,
where I found Madame pacing the garden. She looked up eagerly on hearing
my step; and I was mistaken if she was not disappointed--if she had not
been expecting someone else. She hid the feeling bravely, however, and
met me with a careless word; but she turned to the house more than once
while we talked, and she seemed to be all the while on the watch, and
uneasy. I was not surprised when Clon's figure presently appeared in
the doorway, and she left me abruptly, and went to him. I only felt more
certain than before that there was something strange on foot. What it
was, and whether it had to do with M. de Cocheforet, I could not tell.
But there it was, and I grew more curious the longer I remained alone.

She came back to me presently, looking thoughtful and a trifle downcast.

'That was Clon, was it not?' I said, studying her face.

'Yes,' she answered. She spoke absently, and did not look at me.

'How does he talk to you?' I asked, speaking a trifle curtly.

As I intended, my tone roused her. 'By signs,' she said.

'Is he--is he not a little mad?' I ventured. I wanted to make her talk
and forget herself.

She looked at me with sudden keenness, then dropped her eyes.

'You do not like him?' she said, a note of challenge in her voice. 'I
have noticed that, Monsieur.'

'I think he does not like me,' I replied.

'He is less trustful than we are,' she answered naively. 'It is natural
that he should be. He has seen more of the world.'

That silenced me for a moment, but she did not seem to notice it.

'I was looking for him a little while ago, and I could not find him,' I
said, after a pause.

'He has been into the village,' she answered.

I longed to pursue the matter further; but though she seemed to
entertain no suspicion of me, I dared not run the risk. I tried her,
instead, on another tack.

'Mademoiselle de Cocheforet does not seem very well to-day?' I said.

'No?' she answered carelessly. 'Well, now you speak of it, I do not
think that she is. She is often anxious about--one we love.'

She uttered the last words with a little hesitation, and looked at me
quickly when she had spoken them. We were sitting at the moment on a
stone seat which had the wall of the house for a back; and, fortunately,
I was toying with the branch of a creeping plant that hung over it, so
that she could not see more than the side of my face. For I knew that it
altered. Over my voice, h