He had remembered her
with a singular persistency; he had looked forward to her coming back;
and when she came, his heart had fluttered like a schoolboy's. But things
had changed. Clearly she was interested in this impostor. Was it the man
himself or the adventure? He did not know. 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.
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