You can go, my
man."
Galope-Chopine hesitated a moment. The indecision, real or feigned, of
the poor devil, who knew not which to obey, deceived even Corentin;
but the Chouan, finally, after an imperative gesture from the lady,
left the room with a dragging step. Mademoiselle de Verneuil and
Corentin looked at each other in silence. This time Marie's limpid
eyes could not endure the gleam of cruel fire in the man's look. The
resolute manner in which the spy had forced his way into her room, an
expression on his face which Marie had never seen there before, the
deadened tones of his shrill voice, his whole demeanor,--all these
things alarmed her; she felt that a secret struggle was about to take
place between them, and that he meant to employ against her all the
powers of his evil influence. But though she had at this moment a full
and distinct view of the gulf into which she was plunging, she
gathered strength from her love to shake off the icy chill of these
presentiments.
"Corentin," she said, with a sort of gayety, "I hope you are going to
let me make my toilet?"
"Marie," he said,--"yes, permit me to call you so,--you don't yet know
me. Listen; a much less sagacious man than I would see your love for
the Marquis de Montauran. I have several times offered you my heart
and hand. You have never thought me worthy of you; and perhaps you are
right.
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