e ridge, looked down. The road, running with the irritating
straightness of so many of the roads of France, was visible for a full
three miles. It was empty.

"Perhaps the Duke went to the Chateau de Relzieres to see his
cousin--though I fancy that at bottom the Duke does not care very much
for the Baron de Relzieres. They always look as though they detested
one another," said Sonia, without raising her eyes from the letter she
was addressing.

"You've noticed that, have you?" said Germaine. "Now, as far as Jacques
is concerned--he's--he's so indifferent. None the less, when we were at
the Relzieres on Thursday, I caught him quarrelling with Paul de
Relzieres."

"Quarrelling?" said Sonia sharply, with a sudden uneasiness in air and
eyes and voice.

"Yes; quarrelling. And they said good-bye to one another in the oddest
way."

"But surely they shook hands?" said Sonia.

"Not a bit of it. They bowed as if each of them had swallowed a poker."

"Why--then--then--" said Sonia, starting up with a frightened air; and
her voice stuck in her throat.

"Then what?" said Germaine, a little startled by her panic-stricken
face.

"The duel! Monsieur de Relzieres' duel!" cried Sonia.

"What? You don't think it was with Jacques?"

"I don't know--but this quarrel--the Duke's manner this morning--the Du
Buits' drive--" said Sonia.

"Of course--of course! It's quite possible--in fact it's certain!"
cried Germaine.

"It's horrible!" gasped Sonia. "Consider--just consider! Suppose
something happened to him. Suppose the Duke--"

"It's me the Duke's fighting about!" cried Germaine proudly, with a
little skipping jump of triumphant joy.

Sonia stared through her without seeing her. Her face was a dead
white--fear had chilled the lustre from her skin; her breath panted
through her parted lips; and her dilated eyes seemed to look on some
dreadful picture.

Germaine pirouetted about the hall at the very height of triumph. To
have a Duke fighting a duel about her was far beyond the wildest dreams
of snobbishness. She chuckled again and again, and once she clapped her
hands and laughed aloud.

"He's fighting a swordsman of the first class--an invincible
swordsman--you said so yourself," Sonia muttered in a tone of anguish.
"And there's nothing to be done--nothing."

She pressed her hands to her eyes as if to shut out a hideous vision.

Germaine did not hear her; she was staring at herself in a mirror, and
bridling to her ow