Part 20 (1/2)
Up and down I paced for a little, and at last I heard mademoiselle's voice. She had come down, and I went back into the house.
CHAPTER XVI
THE TWELVE ROSE PETALS
Whether it were the effect of the candlelight, or whether it were due to the exertion of the day, I know not, but it seemed to me as I entered the room that mademoiselle looked pale and worn, and there was a reserve and constraint in her manner that had been absent before. I made some vapid remark about the warmth of the weather, hoping it had not added to her fatigue, to which she answered that she was tired, but that a night's rest would, doubtless, see her as well as ever by morning. The landlord at this moment announcing supper as served we went to table. At first my companion played with her food, but, yielding to my pressure, began to eat, and in a little the colour came back to her cheeks, the brightness returned to her eyes, and the coldness in her manner wore off. The landlord himself personally attended to us, and I observed that, whilst his manner towards mademoiselle was deferential and respectful in the extreme, his tone towards me was that of sulky obedience. This was so different from my first reception that, with my suspicions already aroused, it was impossible for me not to see it, and so I took the chance of a shot in the dark, saying:
”We have seen nothing of our fellow-guest, mademoiselle. It seems that, like the mole, he dislikes light. I have been thinking that, perhaps, it would be well to unearth him.”
Whilst saying this I kept my eyes on an ornament on the table, but as I finished I glanced up swiftly. The landlord was at the time engaged in handing some fruit to mademoiselle, but at my remark he almost dropped the plate, and mademoiselle said, with a laugh: ”You will have to arrest everyone we meet on the road, monsieur, if your suspicions are aroused so easily.” Nevertheless, I was certain that a glance of understanding had pa.s.sed between her and the landlord, and I felt sure that it would be well to pay a little attention to the retiring stranger.
As I expected, the landlord shortly after retired, leaving us alone.
The room we were in was long and low, with a window opening into the garden. Mademoiselle was sitting facing this window, which lay open because of the warmth of the night, whilst my back was turned towards it. I said something about the landlord's manner, and mademoiselle replied:
”He is of lower Poitou, monsieur. Men there are like their country--sullen and sad.” And then she stopped suddenly, her eyes fixed on the window, whilst her colour came and went. She had not the gift that cynics a.s.sert is a special attribute of the s.e.x, and was a bad dissembler; and I here venture to say such women make the best of wives, even though life's pa.s.sage with them may be at times a little stormy.
”Is there anything there?” I asked, making a movement as if to turn round; but she said hastily:
”No, nothing; I thought I saw a figure pa.s.sing--that is all.”
”One of my men, no doubt,” I said carelessly. ”We may rest secure to-night, for they will keep good watch.”
To this she made no answer, but taking a rose from out of a vase near her began to pluck the petals in an absent manner and lay them beside her. When a woman's wits are pitted against those of a man it is well for him to disregard nothing, and, slight as this action was, I took note of it. I counted the petals as she plucked them. They were twelve in all. Then she cast the rose aside, and picked up the petals one after another, counting them aloud, and when she came to the twelfth she put them in a heap beside her plate.
”Twelve,” I said. ”Is that a magic number?”
”No, monsieur; but it is my lucky number.” And rising she moved to the window and, sitting thereon, looked forth. The night was dark, and all the stars were out. From the open window, a pennon of light streamed out into the garden, heavy with the scent of roses. Mademoiselle took a deep breath, and then pointing to the twinkling lights above us, asked:
”Are you learned in the stars, Monsieur Broussel?”
I looked out too, for I was standing at the window, and laughed.
”No, mademoiselle; all I know is that the star I was born under has not done much for me. I remember, some years ago, when I was in Italy, an astrologer made a horoscope for me; but I have lost it.”
”You do not believe in the stars, then?”
”Who can tell, mademoiselle! But a man's life is mostly of his own making, and a woman's too for the matter of that. There is an invariable law of Nature or of G.o.d. It is that the breaker pays, and sooner or later all learn this.”
”_Ciel_! how serious you are!” And her brown eyes met mine.
”The stars should never laugh, mademoiselle.”
”They cried over me when my fortune was told.”
”May I ask----”
”Oh yes!--but fortune for fortune. If I tell you mine will you tell me yours?”