He blenched and cringed before her, muttering incoherently.

"I know," she said, "I read you! And now the keys. Go, bring them to

me! And if by chance I find the wicket unlocked when I come down, pray,

Carlat, pray! For you will have need of prayers."

He slunk away, the men with him; and she fell to pacing the roof

feverishly. Now and then she extended her arms, and low cries broke from

her, as from a dumb creature in pain. Wherever she looked, old memories

rose up to torment her and redouble her misery. A thing she could have

borne in the outer world, a thing which might have seemed tolerable in

the reeking air of Paris or in the gloomy streets of Angers wore here its

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most appalling aspect. Henceforth, whatever choice she made, this home,

where even in those troublous times she had known naught but peace, must

bear a damning stain! Henceforth this day and this hour must come

between her and happiness, must brand her brow, and fix her with a deed

of which men and women would tell while she lived! Oh, God--pray? Who

said, pray?

"I!" And La Tribe with tears in his eyes held out the keys to her. "I,

Madame," he continued solemnly, his voice broken with emotion. "For in

man is no help. The strongest man, he who rode yesterday a master of

men, a very man of war in his pride and his valour--see him, now, and--"

"Don't!" she cried, sharp pain in her voice. "Don't!" And she stopped

him with her hand, her face averted. After an interval, "You come from

him?" she muttered faintly.

"Yes."

"Is he--hurt to death, think you?" She spoke low, and kept her face

hidden from him.

"Alas, no!" he answered, speaking the thought in his heart. "The men who

are with him seem confident of his recovery."

"Do they know?"

"Badelon has had experience."

"No, no. Do they know of this?" she cried. "Of this!" And she pointed

with a gesture of loathing to the black gibbet on the farther strand.

He shook his head. "I think not," he muttered. And after a moment, "God

help you!" he added fervently. "God help and guide you, Madame!"

She turned on him suddenly, fiercely. "Is that all you can do?" she

cried. "Is that all the help you can give? You are a man. Go down,

lead them out; drive off these cowards who drain our life's blood, who

trade on a woman's heart! On them! Do something, anything, rather than

lie in safety here--here!"

The minister shook his head sadly. "Alas, Madame!" he said, "to sally

were to waste life. They outnumber us three to one. If Count Hannibal

could do no more than break through last night, with scarce a man

unwounded--"