"Hush!" he said, raising his hand.
"Don't speak of it, Anne!" and I saw that the fate of his friends was still too recent, the horror of his awakening to those dreadful sights and sounds was still too vivid for him to bear reference to them.

Yet after riding for a time in silence--though his lips moved--he asked me again what had brought us up.
"We came to warn you--of him," I answered, pointing to the solitary, moody figure of the Vidame, who was riding ahead of the party.

"He--he said that Kit should never marry you, and boasted of what he would do to you, and frightened her.

So, learning he was going to Paris, we followed him--to put you on your guard, you know." And I briefly sketched our adventures, and the strange circumstances and mistakes which had delayed us hour after hour, through all that strange night, until the time had gone by when we could do good.
His eyes glistened and his colour rose as I told the story.

He wrung my hand warmly, and looked back to smile at Marie and Croisette.