"I'm going."

"But why?"

"I want to know. Some one fired. I want to know who it was."

"Don't let us separate, please!"

"Do you think I'm going to wait here for you for hours?"

"What about your running away?... All our plans ...?"

"We'll discuss that to-morrow. Go back to the house. Take back my things
with you.... And good-bye for the present."

She hurried, left him, had the good luck to find her horse and set off at a
gallop in a direction leading away from La Mareze.

There was not the least doubt in her mind that the three shots had been
fired by Prince Renine.

"It was he," she muttered, angrily, "it was he. No one else would be
capable of such behaviour."

Besides, he had warned her, in his smiling, masterful way, that he would
expect her.

She was weeping with rage and humiliation. At that moment, had she found
herself face to face with Prince Renine, she could have struck him with her
riding-whip.