The ribbons from the sleeves of the coat. Hélène will appreciate them more than I do.” Fourbier didn’t bother to sigh dramatically. He chose instead to ignore the colonel, who had burst into the bedchamber to demand his maps and then paced as Fourbier set down the bodice he was taking in and embellishing for Madame de Cantière to fetch the maps from the small coffer. It was only by chance that Fourbier was in the colonel’s room at all, since up until then he had done his sewing in the nursery. He shouldn’t have been sewing on a Sunday, and doing so still caused him a great deal of guilt. Even though he no longer followed his father’s strict Calvinism, he still thought he should take the day off. But he was seeking employment for his idle hands. He was hiding. After the first panicked hour on horseback the day before, riding had settled into a sort of low-grade terror, much like the feeling he had once an assault was well underway on a battlefield. How did anyone enjoy bouncing around high off the ground?
