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CHAPTER XX.
ON THE CASTLE HILL.
Thrice she hummed it, bland and smiling. Then from the neighbouring group came an interruption. The wine he had drunk had put it into Bigot’s head to snatch a kiss from Suzanne; and Suzanne’s modesty, which was very nice in company, obliged her to squeal. The uproar which ensued, the men backing the man and the women the woman, brought Tavannes to his feet. He did not speak, but a glance from his eyes was enough. There was not one who failed to see that something was amiss with him, and a sudden silence fell on the party.
He turned to the Countess. “You wished to see the castle?” he said. “You had better go now, but not alone.” He cast his eyes over the company, and summoned La Tribe, who was seated with the Carlats. “Go with Madame,” he said curtly. “She has a mind to climb the hill. Bear in mind, we start at three, and do not venture out of hearing.”
“I understand, M. le Comte,” the minister answered. He spoke quietly, but there was a strange light in his face as he turned to go with her.
None the less he was silent until Madame’s lagging feet—for all her interest in the expedition was gone—had borne her a hundred paces from the company. Then—
“Who knoweth our thoughts and forerunneth all our
