The Indiscretion of the Duchess | Page 8

of a husband
denied them. My opportunity was short, but I laid myself out to make
the most of it. I could give her nothing more than a pleasant memory,
but I determined to do that.
We spent the greater part of the day in a ramble through the woods that
lined the slopes of the hill behind the house; and all through the hours
the duchess chatted about herself, her life, her family--and then about
the duke. If the hints she gave were to be trusted, her husband deserved
little consideration at her hands, and, at the worst, the plea of reprisal

might offer some excuse for her, if she had need of one. But she denied
the need, and here I was inclined to credit her. For with me, as with
Gustave de Berensac before the shadow of Lady Cynthia came between,
she was, most distinctly, a "good comrade." Sentiment made no
appearance in our conversation, and, as the day ruthlessly wore on, I
regretted honestly that I must go in deference to a conventionality
which seemed, in this case at least--Heaven forbid that I should indulge
in general theories--to mask no reality. Yet she was delightful by virtue
of the vitality in her; and the woods echoed again and again with our
laughter.
At four o'clock we returned sadly to the house, where the merry girls
busied themselves in preparing a repast for me. The duchess insisted on
sharing my meal.
"I shall go supperless to bed to-night," said she; and we sat down glum
as two children going back to school.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside; the girls were talking to one
another in rapid eager tones. The duchess raised her head, listening.
Then she turned to me, asking:
"Can you hear what they say?"
"I can distinguish nothing except 'Quick, quick!'"
As I spoke the door was thrown open, and two rushed in, the foremost
saying:
"Again, madame, again!"
"Impossible!" exclaimed the duchess, starting up.
"No, it is true. Jean was out, snaring a rabbit, and caught sight of the
carriage."
"What carriage? Whose carriage?" I asked.
"Why, my husband's," said the duchess, quite calmly. "It is a favorite

trick of his to surprise us. But Algeria! We thought we were safe with
Algeria. He must travel underground like a mole, Suzanne, or we
should have heard."
"Oh, one hears nothing here!"
"And what," said the duchess, "are we to do with Mr. Aycon?"
"I can solve that," I observed. "I'm off."
"But he'll see you!" cried the girl. "He is but a half-mile off."
"Mr. Aycon could take the side-path," said the duchess.
"The duke would see him before he reached it," said the girl. "He
would be in sight for nearly fifty yards."
"Couldn't I hide in the bushes?" I asked.
"I hate anything that looks suspicious," remarked the duchess, still
quite calm; "and if he happened to see you, it would look rather
suspicious! And he has got eyes like a cat's for anything of that sort."
There was no denying that it would look suspicious if I were caught
hiding in the bushes. I sat silent, having no other suggestion to make.
Suzanne, with a readiness not born, I hope, of practice, came to the
rescue with a clever suggestion.
"The English groom whom madame dismissed a week ago--" said she.
"Why should not the gentleman pass as the groom? The man would not
take his old clothes away, for he had bought new ones, and they are still
here. The gentleman would put them on and walk past--voilà."
"Can you look like a groom?" asked the duchess. "If he speaks to you,
make your French just a little worse"--and she smiled.
They were all so calm and businesslike that it would have seemed
disobliging and absurd to make difficulties.

"We can send your luggage soon, you know," said the duchess. "You
had better hide Mr. Aycon's luggage in your room, Suzanne. Really, I
am afraid you ought to be getting ready, Mr. Aycon."
The point of view again! By virtue of the duchess' calmness and
Suzanne's cool readiness, the proceeding seemed a most ordinary one.
Five minutes later I presented myself to the duchess, dressed in a
villainous suit of clothes, rather too tight for me, and wearing a bad hat
rakishly cocked over one eye. The duchess surveyed me with great
curiosity.
"Fortunately the duke is not a very clever man," said she. "Oh, by the
way, your name's George Sampson, and you come from Newmarket;
and you are leaving because you took more to drink than was good for
you. Good-by, Mr. Aycon. I do hope that we shall meet again under
pleasanter circumstances."
"They could not be pleasanter--but they might be more prolonged," said
I.
"It was so good