'Is there any news about the Queen?' Paul asked.

'There's never any news from Granjolaye,' said Andre.

'And the lady I met in the forest? Have you any new theory who she is?'

'An officer's wife from Ba----'

'Andre!' cried Paul. 'If you say that again, I shall write to the Pope and ask him to disfrock you.'

The next day was fine; but, though he spent the entire morning in the Smuggler's Pathway, he did not meet her. 'It's because the ground's still wet,' he reasoned. 'Oh, why don't things dry quicker?'

The next day he did meet her--and she pa.s.sed him with a bow. He shook his fist at her unsuspecting back.

The next day he perceived Bezigue riderless near the opening among the trees. The horse neighed, as he drew near. She was seated on the moss. He stood still, and bowed tentatively from the path. 'Are you disengaged? May I come in?' he asked.

'Oh, do,' she answered. 'And--won't you take a seat?'

'Thank you,' and he placed himself beside her.

'Tell me about your life afterwards,' she said.

'My life afterwards? After what?'

'After you were carried off to Paris.'

'What earthly interest can _that_ have?'

'I want to know.'

'It was the average life of the average youth whose family is in average circ.u.mstances.'

'You went to school?'

'What makes you doubt it? Do I seem so illiterate?'

'Where? In England? Eton? Harrow?'

'No, in Paris. The Lycee Louis le Grand. Oh, I have received an education--no expense was spared. I forget how many years I pa.s.sed _a faire mon droit_ in the Latin Quarter. You'd be surprised if you were to discover what a lot I know. Shall I prove to you that the sum of the angles of a right-angled triangle is equal to two right angles? Or conjugate the verb _amo_? Or give you a brief summary of the doctrines of Aristotle? Or an account of the life and works of Gustavus Alolphus?'

'When did you go to England?'

'Not till Necessity drove me there. I had to eke out a meagre patrimony. I went to England to seek my fortune.'

'Did you find it?'

'I never had the knack of finding things. When my father used to send me into the library to fetch a book, or my mother into her dressing-room to fetch her scissors, I could never find them. I looked for it everywhere, but I couldn't find it.'

'What did you do?'

'I lived by my wits. _Chevalier d'industrie_.'

'_Ah, non. Je ne crois pas_.'

'You don't believe my wits were sufficient to the task? I was like the London hospitals--practically unendowed; only they wouldn't support me by voluntary contributions. So--I wrote for the newspapers, I'm afraid.'

'For the newspapers?'

'Oh, I admit, it's scandalous. But you may as well know the worst. A penny-a-liner! But I shan't do so any more, now that I have stepped into the shoes of my uncle. You'll never catch me fatiguing myself with work, now that I've got enough to live on!'

'Lazy!'

'Oh, I'm everything that's reprehensible.'

'And you never married?'

'I don't think so.'

'Aren't you sure?'

'As sure as one can be of anything in this doubtful world.'

'But why didn't you?'

'_Pas si bete_. Marriage is such a bore. I never met a woman I could bear the thought of pa.s.sing all my life with.'

'Conceited!'

'I daresay. If you like false modesty better, I'll try to meet your wishes. What woman would have had a poor devil like me?'

'Still, marriage is, after all, very much in vogue.'

'Yes, but it's mad. Either you must love the woman you marry, or you mustn't love her. But if you marry a woman without loving her, I hope you'll not deny you're doing a very shocking thing. If, on the contrary, you do love her, _raison de plus_ for not marrying her Fancy marrying a woman you love; and then, day by day, watching the beautiful wild flower of love fatten into a domestic cabbage! Isn't that a syllogism?'

'You have been in love then?'

'Never.'

'Never?'

'Oh, I've made a fool of myself occasionally, of course. But I've never been in love.'

'Except with Helene de la Granjolaye?'

'Oh, yes, I was in love with her--when I was ten.'

'Till you were...?'

'Till I was...?'