it for
him. I like a spark of the devil. My father says Monsieur Joseph was a
thorough _polisson_, and almost as pretty as his nephew. He's a pious
little gentleman now. They are a curious family!"

Angelot slipped through the dark empty chapel, and the wind howled
behind him. He ran down the passage between rooms that were empty and
dark, for Mademoiselle Moineau and her pupils had been allowed to go
down to the ball. He went through stone-vaulted corridors, unlighted,
cold and lonely, across half the length of the great house. He had to
watch his moment for passing the head of the chief staircase, for there
were people going up and down, servants trying to see what they could of
the gay doings below. Waves of warm and scented air rolled up against
his face as he darted past, keeping close to the wall, one moving shadow
more. Music, laughing, talking, filled old Lancilly like a flood, ebbing
and flowing so; and every now and then the tramping of feet on the
ball-room floor echoed loudest.

Angelot knew of a little gallery room with narrow slits in the
stonework, opening out of the further passage that led to Monsieur and
Madame de Sainfoy's rooms. It used to be empty or filled with lumber; it
now held several large wardrobes, but the perforated wall remained. He
found the door open; it was not quite dark, for gleams of light made
their way in from the chandeliers in the ball-room, one end of which it
overlooked. There were also a couple of lights in the passage outside.

From this high point Angelot looked down upon the ball. And first it was
nothing but a whirling confusion of sound and colour and light; the
flying dresses, the uniforms, jewels, gold lace, glittering necklaces,
flashing sword hilts. Then--that fair head, that white figure alone.

He could hear nothing of what was said; but he saw her brother come up
with General Ratoneau, he watched the dance--and if those slits in the
solid wall had been wider, there might have been danger of a young man's
daring to drop down by his hands, trusting to fate to land him safely
on the floor below. For he saw his love walk away with her partner down
the ball-room, out of his sight, and then he waited in unbearable
impatience, but saw her no more for what seemed a long time. He began to
think that he must go, carrying with him the agony of leaving her in
familiar talk with Ratoneau, when suddenly he saw her again, and forgot
his mother, his uncle, Cesar d'Ombre, and al