esh supplies to enable him to begin again
and rack humanity with hideous wars. Oh, he never told you of the
Corsican's escape, yet this news is three days old. See you, my dear,
this explains the whole mystery, the necessity for absolute secrecy;
all England is friendly to the French monarch; no need to smuggle gold
for his aid--but the other...! It is treason, the blackest treason on
every side of it, treason to his King, to his country, to _your_ King,
to you. And he would have cozened you with tales of his loyalty to the
rightful cause!"

"Give me the paper," said Madeleine. A tide of blood had swept into
her face; she was no longer white and shaken, but erect and beautiful
in strong indignation. Rupert examined her, as if a little doubtful
how to take the sudden change; but he handed her the printed sheet in
silence. She read with lips and nostrils expanded by her quick
breathing; then crumpled up the sheet and cast it at his feet. And
after a pause, with her princess air of dignity, "I thank you, cousin
Rupert," she said; then, passing him with stately steps, moved towards
the house.

He pressed forward to keep up with her; and upon the other side,
smiling, irrepressible, jocose, Mr. Hobson did the same.

"You are not fit to go alone," urged the former, while the latter
engagingly protruding an elbow, announced that he'd be proud to give
her an arm as far as the Hall.

She drew away from this well-meaning squire of dames with such
shuddering distaste, and looked once more so white and worn and
sickened after her sudden blaze of passion, that Mr. Landale, seeing
that the only kindness was to let her have her will, arrested his
companion roughly enough, and allowed her to proceed as she wished.

* * * * *

And so, with bent head, Madeleine hurried forth. And the same glorious
sun smiled down upon her in her anguish that had greeted her when she
hastened an hour before glowing and light-hearted--if, indeed, a heart
so full of love could be termed light--to meet her lover; the same
brambles caught her dress, the same bird trilled his song. But
Madeleine thought neither of ray nor leaf, nor yet of mating
songsters: all the spring world, as she went, was to her strewn with
the wreck of her broken hopes, and encompassed by the darkness of her
lonely future.

* * * * *

Mr. Landale and the preventive service man stood some time watching
her retreating