I
have had enough. I--"
Louis left the room to give the necessary orders. When he returned
in a few minutes, Barlasch was asleep on the floor, and Desiree had
tied on her hood again, which concealed her face. He drank a cup of
coffee and ate some dry bread absent-mindedly, in silence.
The sound of bells, feebly heard through the double windows, told
them that the horses were being harnessed.
"Are you ready?" asked D'Arragon, who had not sat down; and in
response, Desiree, standing near the stove, went towards the door,
which he held open for her to pass out. As she passed him, she
glanced at his face, and winced.
In the sleigh she looked up at him as if expecting him to speak. He
was looking straight in front of him. There was, after all, nothing
to be said. She could see his steady eyes between his high collar
and the fur cap. They were hard and unflinching. The road was
level now, and the snow beaten to a gleaming track like ice.
D'Arragon put the horses to a gallop at the town gate, and kept them
at it.
In half an hour he turned towards her and pointed with his whip to a
roof half hidden by some thin pines.
"That is the inn," he said.
In the inn yard he indicated with his whip two travelling-carriages
standing side by side.
"Colonel Darragon is here?" he said to the cringing Jew who came to
meet them; and the innkeeper led the way upstairs. The house was a
miserable one, evil-smelling, sordid.
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