But the adventure
was the man--and who could tell? Once he thought he had detected some
warmth for himself in her eye, in the clasp of her hand; there was
nothing of that sort now. A black, ungentlemanly spirit seized him.
It possessed him most strongly at the moment he was passing the home of
Elise Malboir. The girl was standing by the gate, looking down towards
the village. Her brow was a little heavy, so that it gave her eyes at
all times a deep look, but now De la Riviere saw that they were brooding
as well. There was sadness in the poise of the head. He did not take
off his hat to her.
"'Oh, grand to the war he goes,
O gai, rive le roi!'"
he said teasingly. He thought she might have a lover among the recruits
at Dalgrothe Mountain.
She turned to him, startled, for she thought he meant Valmond. She did
not speak, but became very still and pale.
"Better tie him up with a garter, Elise, and get the old uncle back to
Ville Bambord. Trouble's coming. The game'll soon be up."
"What trouble?" she asked.
"Battle, murder, and sudden death," he answered, and passed on with a
sour laugh.
She slowly repeated his words, looked towards the Manor House, with a
strange expression, then went up to her little bedroom and sat on the
edge of the bed for a long time, where she had sat with Valmond. Every
word, every incident, of that night came back to her; and her heart
filled up with worship.
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