At the sight of this the young man's terror increased, and he started to his feet.
"Let me run to the Chateau," said he, "and in less than an hour--" "Do nothing of the kind," interrupted the girl; "it is a mere nothing.
Look, I can move my foot with ease." "But let me entreat you--" "Hush! we shall soon see what it is that has happened." And she inspected what she laughingly termed his terrible wound.
It was, as she had supposed, a mere nothing.

One pellet had grazed the skin, another had lodged in the flesh, but it was quite on the surface.
"A surgeon must see to this," said Norbert.
"No, no." And with the point of a penknife she pulled out the little leaden shot.

The young man remained still, holding his breath, as a child does when he is putting the topmost story on a house of cards.

He had never heard so soft a voice, never gazed on so perfectly lovely a face.

In the meantime Diana had torn up her handkerchief and bandaged the wound.