Nor was Count Hannibal's ear deaf
to it.
"Through Challans," he said, "thirteen leagues."
"From Clisson?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Comte."
"And by Commequiers less," the Countess cried.
"No, it is a worse road," Tignonville answered quickly; "and longer in
time."
"But we came--"
"At our leisure, Madame. The road is by Challans, if we wish to be there
quickly."
"Ah!" Count Hannibal said. In the darkness it was impossible to see his
face or mark how he took it. "But being there, I have few men."
"I have forty will come at call," she cried with pride. "A word to them,
and in four hours or a little more--"
"They would outnumber mine by four to one," Count Hannibal answered
coldly, dryly, in a voice like ice-water flung in their faces. "Thank
you, Madame; I understand. To Vrillac is no long ride; but we will not
ride it at present." And he turned sharply on his heel and strode from
them.
He had not covered thirty paces before she overtook him in the middle of
a broad patch of moonlight, and touched his arm. He wheeled swiftly, his
hand halfway to his hilt. Then he saw who it was.
"Ah," he said, "I had forgotten, Madame. You have come--"
"No!" she cried passionately; and standing before him she shook back the
hood of her cloak that he might look into her eyes.
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