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I munched my bread and drank my wine, thinking, by a whimsical turn of thought, of Gustave de Berensac and his horror at the table laid for three. Soon I laid down my napkin, and the duke held out his cigarette case toward me: "And now, Mr. Aycon, if I'm not keeping you up " "I do not feel sleepy," said I. "It is the same for both of us," he reminded me, shrugging his shoulders.
I may be flattering myself, but I thought that she displayed a melancholy satisfaction on discovering that Gustave de Berensac must leave at ten o'clock the next morning, whereas I should be left to kick my heels in idleness at Cherbourg if I set out before five in the afternoon. "Oh, you can spend the time en route," said Gustave. "It will be better."
But in an instant I was sitting up again for as the rider drew nearer, trotting briskly along, his form and air was familiar to me; and when he came opposite to me, I sprang up and ran out to meet him, crying out to him: "Gustave! Gustave!" It was Gustave de Berensac, my friend. He reined in his horse and greeted me and he greeted me without surprise, but not without apparent displeasure.
"You shall come to no harm by that, if you do," I assured him. But hardly had I my virtuous pride now completely smothered by my tender remorse started on my ill-considered return journey, when, just as had happened to Gustave de Berensac and myself the evening before, a slim figure ran down from the bank by the roadside. It was the duchess. The short cut had served her.
The presence of Mlle. de Berensac would have infinitely increased our pleasure; but how would it have diminished our crime?" "I wish I had known you sooner, Mr. Aycon," said the duchess; "then I needn't have asked him at all." I bowed, but I was content with things as they were. The duchess sat with the air of a child who has been told that she is naughty, but declines to accept the statement.
The moral is, I suppose, Tolerance; or if not that, something else which has escaped me. When the duchess said that "it" by which she meant the whole position of affairs was "fun," I laughed; on the other hand, Gustave de Berensac, after one astonished stare, walked to the hall door. "Where is my carriage?" we heard him ask. "It has started on the way back three, minutes ago, sir."
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