She was a woman of quick impulses,
essentially feminine; and she screamed three or four times, standing
where she was, her eyes on the edge of the wood. "If that does not bring
her out, nothing will!" she thought.
It brought her. An instant, and the Countess appeared, and hurried in
dismay to her side.
"What is it?" the younger woman asked, glancing over her shoulder; for
all the valley, all the hills were peaceful, and behind Madame St. Lo--but
the lady had not discovered it--the servants who had returned were laying
the meal. "What is it?" she repeated anxiously.
"Who was it?" Madame St. Lo asked curtly. She was quite calm now.
"Who was--who?"
"The man in the wood?"
The Countess stared a moment, then laughed. "Only the old soldier they
call Badelon, gathering simples. Did you think that he would harm me?"
"It was not old Badelon whom I saw!" Madame St. Lo retorted. "It was a
younger man, who crept along the other side of the brook, keeping under
cover. When I first saw him he was there," she continued, pointing to
the place. "And he crept on and on until he came opposite to you. Then
he waved his hand."
"To me?"
Madame nodded.
"But if you saw him, who was he?" the Countess asked.
"I did not see his face," Madame St. Lo answered.
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