"Come, all is not lost yet," he said briskly. "If I can escape from the

house--"

"He knows you," she answered.

"What?"

"He knows you," Mademoiselle repeated in a tone almost apathetic. "I

read it in his eyes. He knew you at once: and knew, too," she added

bitterly, "that he had here under his hand one of the two things he

required."

"Then why did he hide his knowledge?" the young man retorted sharply.

"Why?" she answered. "To induce me to waive the other condition in the

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hope of saving you. Oh!" she continued in a tone of bitter raillery, "he

has the cunning of hell, of the priests! You are no match for him,

Monsieur. Nor I; nor any of us. And"--with a gesture of despair--"he

will be my master! He will break me to his will and to his hand! I

shall be his! His, body and soul, body and soul!" she continued

drearily, as she sank into a chair and, rocking herself to and fro,

covered her face. "I shall be his! His till I die!"

The man's eyes burned, and the pulse in his temples beat wildly.

"But you shall not!" he exclaimed. "I may be no match for him in

cunning, you say well. But I can kill him. And I will!" He paced up

and down. "I will!"

"You should have done it when he was here," she answered, half in scorn,

half in earnest.

"It is not too late," he cried; and then he stopped, silenced by the

opening door. It was Javette who entered. They looked at her, and

before she spoke were on their feet. Her face, white and eager, marking

something besides fear, announced that she brought news. She closed the

door behind her, and in a moment it was told.

"Monsieur can escape, if he is quick," she cried in a low tone; and they

saw that she trembled with excitement. "They are at supper. But he must

be quick! He must be quick!"

"Is not the door guarded?"

"It is, but--"

"And he knows! Your mistress says that he knows that I am here."

For a moment Javette looked startled. "It is possible," she muttered.

"But he has gone out."

Madame Carlat clapped her hands. "I heard the door close," she said,

"three minutes ago."

"And if Monsieur can reach the room in which he supped last night, the

window that was broken is only blocked"--she swallowed once or twice in

her excitement--"with something he can move. And then Monsieur is in the

street, where his cowl will protect him."

"But Count Hannibal's men?" he asked eagerly.

"They are eating in the lodge by the door."

"Ha! And they cannot see the other room from there?"




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