Recollect
one thing: that noble and beautiful young lady has been my
benefactress; she is also yours--we live together like two sisters. No
harm must ever come to her where we are, you and I--in our lifetime at
least. Swear it! I trust no one here but you."
"I don't command here," said the Chouan, in a surly tone.
His face darkened. She caught his long ears and twisted them gently as
if playing with a cat.
"At least," she said, seeing that he looked less stern, "promise me to
use all the power you have to protect our benefactress."
He shook his head as if he doubted of success, and the motion made her
tremble. At this critical moment the escort was entering the
courtyard. The tread of the soldiers and the rattle of their weapons
awoke the echoes and seemed to put an end to Marche-a-Terre's
indecision.
"Perhaps I can save her," he said, "if you make her stay in the house.
And mind," he added, "whatever happens, you must stay with her and
keep silence; if not, no safety."
"I promise it," she replied in terror.
"Very good; then go in--go in at once, and hide your fears from every
one, even your mistress."
"Yes."
She pressed his hand; he stood for a moment watching her with an
almost paternal air as she ran with the lightness of a bird up the
portico; then he slipped behind the bushes, like an actor darting
behind the scenes as the curtain rises on a tragedy.
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