ovement he made, he could not perceive anything. And yet, by his
style, his dress, his walk, he still fancied he recognized Remy in the
man who wore the overcoat.

Mere conjectures, more terrifying for him than realities, arose in his
mind with regard to this man's companion.

The road which they were following, and which was bounded by a row of
elms, terminated in a high hawthorn hedge, which separated from the rest
of the park the pavilion of the Duc d'Anjou, and enveloped it as with a
curtain of verdure, in the midst of which, as has been already observed,
it entirely disappeared in a remote corner of the grounds of the
chateau. There were several beautiful sheets of water, dark underwood,
through which winding paths had been cut, and venerable trees, over the
summits of which the moon was shedding its streams of silver light,
while underneath the gloom was thick, dark, and impenetrable.

As he approached this hedge, Henri felt that his heart was on the point
of failing him. In fact, to transgress so boldly the prince's orders,
and to abandon himself to a course of conduct as indiscreet as it was
rash, was the act, not of a loyal and honorable man, but of a mean and
cowardly spy, or of a jealous man driven to extremities. But as, while
opening the gate, which separated the greater from the smaller park, the
man he followed moved in such a way that his features were revealed, and
as he perceived that these features were indeed those of Remy, the
count's scruples vanished, and he resolutely advanced at all hazards.
Henri found the gate again closed; he leaped over the railings, and then
continued his pursuit of the prince's two strange visitors, who still
seemed to be hurrying onward. Another cause of terror was soon added;
for the duke, on hearing the footsteps of Remy and his companion upon
the gravel walk, made his appearance from the pavilion. Henri threw
himself behind the largest of the trees, and waited.

He could not see anything, except that he observed that Remy made a very
low salutation, that Remy's companion courtesied like a woman, instead
of bowing like a man, and that the duke, seemingly transported with
delight, offered his arm to the latter, in the same way as he would have
done to a woman. Then all three advanced toward the pavilion,
disappeared under the vestibule, and the door closed behind them.

"This must end," said Henri, "and I must seek a more convenient place,
where I can see everything