across the lawn, first thought he was dreaming; next, that he beheld a spectral or illusive image of himself, denoting near approach of death; lastly, that the discipline of the corps had become relaxed to a degree which his military indignation resolved should be severely visited within an hour, though he abandoned his command the next.
A Grey Musketeer, hatted, cloaked, booted precisely like himself, was advancing from the direction of the guardhouse towards the white figure, that now stopped short as if expecting him. While yet a few feet apart, both stood still, and Captain George, in dark shadow at ten paces' distance, not only recognised the Marquise by her voice, but saw her face distinctly, as she turned it towards the moonlight, framed in its masses of black hair.
His heart beat calmly now, and he was the cool resolute man of action once more.
She was the first to speak, and though they trembled a little, very soft and musical fell her tones on the listener's ear.
"I received monsieur's note. It was most kind and considerate on his part. I have been expecting him for this hour past."
The cloaked figure uncovered. George, watching Madame de Montmirail, observed her start and raise her head defiantly.
"Madame will forgive the intrusion then," said her companion, "since it is not unexpected. She will consider also the temptation, and the discretion of her visitor."
There was no mistaking the tones of the Regent, good-humoured, easy, and, though a little husky, pleasant as if mellowed by Bourdeaux. She drew back hastily, but the speaker at the same time possessed himself of her hand, almost by force, and, drawing her towards him, whispered in her ear.
The Marquise broke from him furiously. Her eyes glittered like steel, and she stamped upon the turf, while she exclaimed—
"What have I ever done that your Highness should offer me this insult? And here, in the midst of my own people! The Montmirails have been always loyal," she added, in a tone of bitter scorn, "and know how to spare a Bourbon!
