abruptly towards the meadows by the Cise.

"The English are all as insolent as if the globe belonged to them,"
muttered the Colonel. "Luckily, Soult will give them a thrashing
directly."

The prisoner gave a glance to the caleche as he rode by. Brief though
that glance was, he had yet time to notice the sad expression which
lent an indefinable charm to the Countess' pensive face. Many men are
deeply moved by the mere semblance of suffering in a woman; they take
the look of pain for a sign of constancy or of love. Julie herself was
so much absorbed in the contemplation of the opposite cushion that she
saw neither the horse nor the rider. The damaged trace meanwhile had
been quickly and strongly repaired; the Count stepped into his place
again; and the post-boy, doing his best to make up for lost time,
drove the carriage rapidly along the embankment. On they drove under
the overhanging cliffs, with their picturesque vine-dressers' huts and
stores of wine maturing in their dark sides, till in the distance
uprose the spire of the famous Abbey of Marmoutiers, the retreat of
St. Martin.

"What can that diaphanous milord want with us?" exclaimed the Colonel,
turning to assure himself that the horseman who had followed them from
the bridge was the young Englishman.

After all, the stranger committed no breach of good manners by riding
along on the footway, and Colonel d'Aiglemont was fain to lie back in
his corner after sending a scowl in the Englishman's direction. But in
spite of his hostile instincts, he could not help noticing the beauty
of the animal and the graceful horsemanship of the rider. The young