We stood silent and motionless, all watching, until,
after what seemed a long interval, the little party of seven
became visible on the white road far below us--to the northward,
and moving in that direction. Still we watched them, muttering a
word to one another, now and again, until presently the riders
slackened their pace, and began to ascend the winding track that
led to the hills and Cahors; and to Paris also, if one went far
enough.
Then at length with a loud "Whoop!" we dashed across the
terrace, Croisette leading, and so through the courtyard to the
parlour; where we arrived breathless. "He is off!" Croisette
cried shrilly. "He has started for Paris! And bad luck go with
him!" And we all flung up our caps and shouted.
But no answer, such as we expected, came from the women folk.
When we picked up our caps, and looked at Catherine, feeling
rather foolish, she was staring at us with a white face and great
scornful eyes. "Fools!" she said. "Fools!"
And that was all. But it was enough to take me aback.
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