THE SILVER CORD.
BY SHIRLEY BROOKS.
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CHAPTER XXX.
Acting under orders, of the most explicit character, from his imperious mistress, M. Silvain abstained from paying a reconciliatory visit to Adair, lest so prompt an offer of the olive branch should excite the suspicion of the enemy, but the Frenchman sought an opportunity of meeting Ernest as if by accident. Chance favoured him, and he encountered Adair in one of the roads leading to Versailles, a solitary road, and so narrow that no two acquaintances could pass without recognition. M. Silvain played his little part well, and seemed disconcerted at seeing his late antagonist, and as if inclined to turn and avoid him. Adair, however, hastened to hold out his hand, and press it upon the apparently reluctant Frenchman.
“Why,” said Ernest, retaining the hand of the other while speaking, “you surely do not bear any malice, Silvain. Life is too short for such folly.”
“It is impossible for me to forget in a moment,” said Silvain (their conversation being in French, as before), “that at our last meeting you used language, Monsieur, which”
“Which was perfectly justified, Silvain. Not by anything you said or did, except by your unfortunately coming at a time when I was in the highest state of irritation about some matters which, if you knew them, you would allow to be an excuse for anything. I was in a white heat of rage, and your persistence in talking about things which seemed comparatively trifling made me a brute.”
“I believe that I found you reading a novel,” said Silvain.
“Trying to read it, my friend, trying whether somebody else’s nonsense would take me out of my own trouble. I cannot tell you what this was, but be generous, and believe what I say.”
