* * * *

A day and night passed away, and yet another day and night. Geoffroy
did not return.

Sir Hugo never missed him; he was, indeed, accustomed to the youth
going his own way, and weeks often passed without his seeing him, and
at the present time he hated the sight of any human being. He would sit
for hours in one place in his room. The food carried in to him remained
untouched, but he drank wine greedily, as though seeking forgetfulness
from it; forgetfulness of himself, of the past, and the future.

On the evening of the first day, when Garcinde had gone to see him, he
could not even face his own child, but when she approached him, and
gently threw her arm over his shoulder, his whole frame was convulsed,
and slipping from his chair on to the stone floor, sobbing he clasped
her knees and pressed his brow against her feet, so that she had
difficulty in raising him and leading him back to his couch. Since then
she avoided his chamber, for if she had tried to comfort him by telling
him the reason of Geoffroy's absence, her own desponding heart would
have contradicted her words.

The third morning she woke early out of a painful dream, and called to
Aigleta who shared her couch: "Do you hear nothing, dear? I thought I
caught the sound of horses' hoofs beyond the drawbridge--no, I was only
dreaming. Oh, Aigleta! if I have also made _him_ unhappy--sent _him_ to
his ruin. But hark! the sound comes nearer--I hear the gate creak on
its hinges--it is he. Mother of God! What does he bring--Life or
Death!"

She had sprung up and thrown a cloak around her. Aigleta, too, hastily
rose and bound up her hair; the rosy morning light shone into the room,
and coloured the pale, worn face of the Count's daughter. She would
have gone to meet Geoffroy had her knees supported her; as it was she
was standing in the middle of the room when he entered. He, too, was
pale, and as he bent before her, it struck Aigleta that he did not
raise the leathern cap which covered one-half of his brow. But Garcinde
saw nothing but his eyes which sought to avoid hers.

"You bring no comfort?" she said. "I knew it." Then seating herself on
a bench in the window, she listened impassively to what he narrated
with a faltering voice.

He reached Gaillac that same evening, for he had not spared his horse.
When he was ushered into the hall where the Count was, he found him at
supper, a couple of his riotous companions with him, and the one of hi