When Henrietta saw how the young officer was overcome by the mere
mention of that name, Sarah Brandon, she felt the blood turn to ice in
her veins. She knew perfectly well that a man like Daniel was not likely
to be so utterly overwhelmed unless there was something fearful, unheard
of, in the matter.
“Do you know the woman, Daniel?”
But he, regretting his want of self-possession, was already thinking how
he could make amends for his imprudence.
“I swear to you,” he began.
“Oh, don’t swear! I see you know who she is.”
“I know nothing about her.”
“But”--
“It is true I have heard people talk of her once, a _long time ago_.”
“Whom?”
“One of my friends, Maxime de Brevan, a fine, noble fellow.”
“What sort of a woman is she?”
“Ah, me! that I cannot tell you. Maxime happened to mention her just
in passing; and I never thought that one of these days I should--If
I seemed to be so very much surprised just now, it was because I
remembered, all of a sudden, a very ugly story in which Maxime said she
had been involved, and then”--
He was ridiculous in his inability to tell a fib; so, when he found that
he was talking nonsense, he turned his head away to avoid Henrietta’s
eyes. She interrupted him, and said reproachfully,--
“Do you really think I am not strong enough to hear the truth?”
At first he did not reply. Overcome by the strange position in which he
found himself, he looked for a way to escape, and found none. At last he
said,--
“Miss Henrietta, you must give me time before I tell you any more. I
know nothing positive; and I dare say I am unnecessarily alarmed. I will
tell you all as soon as I am better informed.”
“When will that be?”
“To-night, if I can find Maxime de Brevan at home, as I hope I shall do;
if I miss him, you must wait till to-morrow.”
“And if your suspicions turn out to be well founded; if what you fear,
and hide from me now, is really so,--what must I do then?”