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Updated: May 12, 2025
She looked at him askance, wondering if he was making fun of her. But he seemed quite serious. "Well?" she asked, quivering with curiosity. The light was beginning to wane. They had trotted at a good pace; and the hunt was returning as they neared La Mareze.
It was a glorious morning and they sat down on the terrace of the Restaurant Imperial, a little to one side. Hortense, feeling glad to be alive, was in a playful mood, full of attractive grace. Renine, lest he should startle her, refrained from alluding to the compact into which they had entered at his suggestion. She told him how she had left La Mareze and said that she had not heard of Rossigny.
It was the opening day of the hunt that morning at the Chateau de la Mareze, where, every year, in the first week in September, the Comte d'Aigleroche, a mighty hunter before the Lord, and his countess were accustomed to invite a few personal friends and the neighbouring landowners.
She hurried, left him, had the good luck to find her horse and set off at a gallop in a direction leading away from La Mareze. There was not the least doubt in her mind that the three shots had been fired by Prince Renine. "It was he," she muttered, angrily, "it was he. No one else would be capable of such behaviour."
But she learnt nothing from him, for the man was new to the district and could give her no particulars. He did not even know the name of the owner. They turned their horses' heads towards La Mareze. Again and again Hortense recalled the squalid sight which had met their eyes.
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