The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 343: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

326 REYNOLDS’ WORKS threw me, as you saw, in his way. I was compelled to sub- mit to the villain’s extortions.’’ ‘And that faithful valet of yours? ”’ ~ “ One of my band likewise, but a brave and trustworthy in- dividual. He will join us doubtless in the course of the day, for the French gendarmes had no reason to molest him.” ‘Those letters of mine, which were directed to my sis- ter?’ said Juliana, continuing her queries. “Think you that I was foolish enough to put you in cor- respondence with the Marchioness of Villebelle, when the marquis could tell her that there was no such person as the Count of Toledo, and she would have written you this much back in her very first answer? It was a cursed fatality that threw the Villebelles in the way of my brave band and myself, but we knew not who they were. We are not in the habit of inquiring the names of those travellers whom we politely detain for a few minutes on their-road.’’ ‘What passed between you and the marquis when you encountered each other at the cottage?’’ asked Juliana, thus continuing her feverishly rapid questions. ‘Ah, that was indeed a romantic incident,” ejaculated Collantes, with a laugh, “ and would tell effectively upon the stage in a melodrama where brigands figure. The marquis ~ was walking in the garden, as you recollect. He thought he recognized me; he was astounded, he could not believe his eyes. He saw me waving my hand to some one; he looked around, he perceived you at your chamber window, agitating your kerchief. He rushed up to me, and demanded who I was. Somehcw or another it instantaneously struck me who he must be, and I saw that I was safe. ‘In Spain,’ I answered, ‘ I am, as you suspect, Ramon de Collantes; here I am Count de Toledo, and your sister-in-law is my wife.’ The marquis, like every shrewd diplomatist, though he is but quite a young man, — not older than myself, — recov- ered his self-possession in an instant. I gave the horse to a groom and we walked aside together. I offered to return him his money, but he scornfully rejected it. I asked him if he purposed to betray me. He reflected, and said that it would be better not. I told him I thought so too. But he laid down conditions, which were that I should never again cross the Pyrenees, that I should go into the interior of France, keep my feigned name, and endeavour to earn my living CONNIE OO KS (E(0)