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He came to her now with a smile, greeted her heartily, and then turned to Lady Dargan. Captain Maudsley carried off Mrs. Gasgoyne, and the two were left together the second time since the evening of Gaston's arrival, so many months before. Lady Dargan had been abroad, and was just returned.
Well, since some bothering person must take this time for appearing, Constance hoped it would be Joyce, for she wanted to see her and talk with her. Joyce did not invite intimacy. Up there alone in her shack, waiting for Gaston's return, she was grappling with matters too sacred and agonizing to permit of curious interruption.
The Sieur de Navailles will raise the whole country after us. We must be beyond the reach of his clutches ere we draw rein again." The appointed hour had arrived. No signal had fallen upon Gaston's listening ears; no note of warning had rung through the still night air.
Gaston's face assumed a look of dark wrath and indignation as his quick eyes roved round this evil place, and he set his teeth hard together as he muttered to himself: "Heaven send that the Prince himself may one day look upon the vile secrets of this charnel house! I would that he and his royal father might know what deeds of darkness are even now committed in lands that own their sway!
Indeed, so delicately, vaguely, had the work been done that only eyes like Gaston's, trained to observe, with the sight of a hawk and a sense of the mysterious, could have seen so quickly or so distinctly. He drew slowly back to the mantel again, and mused. What did it mean? He was sure that the woman was his grandmother.
Every day also the headgroom and the huntsman came, and in the village Gaston's humble friends discussed the mystery, stoutly defending him when some one said it was "more nor gabble, that theer saying o' the poacher at the meetin."
Abject terror possessed Joyce and she reeled as she stood, clutching the blanket closer. Gaston put an arm about her, strode to the door, unbarred it, and flung it back. "Well," he said to the men on the threshold, "what are you going to do about it?" Filmer staggered as if Gaston had struck him, and the look in his eyes went scathingly to Gaston's heart. But while it hurt, it aroused resentment.
The singing at the table was entirely of hunting songs; the little rascals of pages took good care to keep Gaston's glass filled he was a great hero with them then. When it came time for the toasts, Count Saxe arose and after drinking to the king and the ladies, gave Gaston Cheverny's health, together with an account, as only Maurice of Saxe could give it, of the exploit of the afternoon.
She sighed and looked down upon him as if he had suddenly become a stranger to her, then, stepping backward, with uncertain faltering movement, she gained the door of that room where no foot but Gaston's had ever before stepped. It was mid-October when Ralph Drew, his pretty sister Constance and his devoted maiden aunt Miss Sally Drew arrived in St.
On, on, on! there were no halts save for the needful rest and refreshment, or to try to get fresh horses to carry them forward. A fire seemed to burn in Gaston's veins as well as in those of Roger; and the knowledge that they were on the track of the fugitives gave fresh ardour to the pursuit at every halting place.
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