Chapter 72
He s.n.a.t.c.hed the reins of his great strong-boned black horse out of the groom's hand, swung himself into the saddle, and sticking his spurs into the animal's sides, galloped out of the courtyard.
"Good gracious!" whispered Carla, "what does it mean?"
"A little row," said the Count, hiding the excitement into which the altercation had thrown him as well as he could under a forced smile; "nothing uncommon between old friends."
"And the cause?"
"A last attempt, it seemed to me, to get a Count for a son-in-law, before accepting a sculptor."
The Count had a.s.sisted Carla into her saddle, put the riding-whip into her hand, and was now arranging her skirt.
Carla bent towards him: "You bad man, I will give you a lecture on the way."
"Pity it cannot be without a witness," whispered the Count, with a look towards the groom, who was holding the reins of the other two horses.
"You are really too bad!"
"At your service," said the Count out loud, and he stepped back and signed to the groom. He swung himself on to his horse, and started off with Carla, followed by the groom at a considerable distance. He had had some trouble in getting into his saddle.
END OF VOL. II.