"Suzanne! Suzanne!" called John again. "It is I, John Scott! Have you
any message for me from Mademoiselle Julie?"
She looked again to see that none was near, and then stepped boldly into
the shrubbery, where John seized her arm half in entreaty and half to
hurry her.
"O, Suzanne! Suzanne!" he repeated, with fierce insistence. "Have you
any word for me?"
They were completely in the heavy shadow now, between the short clipped
pines, where no one, even but a few feet away, could see, and before
replying she looked at him, her grim face relaxing into a smile. She had
always watched him before with a sort of angry jealousy, but John
believed that he now read welcome and gladness in her eyes.
"Suzanne! Suzanne!" he repeated, his insistence ever growing stronger.
"Is there no word for me?"
"Aye," she said, "my mistress bids me tell you that she is grateful,
that she understands all you have risked for her sake, that she can
never repay you sufficiently for your great service, and that she feels
safer because you are near."
"Ah," breathed John, "it is worth every risk to hear that."
"But she fears for you. She knows that you are in great danger here. If
they discover who you are, you perish at once as a spy. So she bids me
tell you to go away. It is easy to escape from here to the Italian
frontier.
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