Page:George Gibbs--Love of Monsieur.djvu/43



HE footsteps of Mistress Barbara and Captain Ferrers vanished into the night. Sir Henry Heywood moved a step nearer Mornay, and the Frenchman turned. His face shone with an unwonted pallor, and an air of distraction had settled in the repose of his features which the dim light of the swinging lanterns could not conceal. His eyes, dark and lustrous, looked at Sir Henry from under half-closed lids, a little ennuyé, but with a perfect composure and studied politeness.

“It is unfortunate that we cannot seem to meet,” said Sir Henry, struggling to control himself. “I am bereaved, Monsieur de Heywood. Perhaps to-morrow.”

“To-morrow?” broke in Heywood, violently. “There may be no to-morrow. I will meet you 31