ll me his name, and I will put it in
the place of the name of Charlotte Backson. No? You will not? You are
silent? Well, then you must be registered as Charlotte Backson."

Milady remained silent; only this time it was no longer from
affectation, but from terror. She believed the order ready for
execution. She thought that Lord de Winter had hastened her departure;
she thought she was condemned to set off that very evening. Everything
in her mind was lost for an instant; when all at once she perceived
that no signature was attached to the order. The joy she felt at this
discovery was so great she could not conceal it.

"Yes, yes," said Lord de Winter, who perceived what was passing in her
mind; "yes, you look for the signature, and you say to yourself: 'All
is not lost, for that order is not signed. It is only shown to me to
terrify me, that's all.' You are mistaken. Tomorrow this order will be
sent to the Duke of Buckingham. The day after tomorrow it will return
signed by his hand and marked with his seal; and four-and-twenty hours
afterward I will answer for its being carried into execution. Adieu,
madame. That is all I had to say to you."

"And I reply to you, sir, that this abuse of power, this exile under a
fictitious name, are infamous!"

"Would you like better to be hanged in your true name, Milady? You know
that the English laws are inexorable on the abuse of marriage. Speak
freely. Although my name, or rather that of my brother, would be mixed
up with the affair, I will risk the scandal of a public trial to make
myself certain of getting rid of you."

Milady made no reply, but became as pale as a corpse.

"Oh, I see you prefer peregrination. That's well madame; and there is an
old proverb that says, 'Traveling trains youth.' My faith! you are not
wrong after all, and life is sweet. That's the reason why I take such
care you shall not deprive me of mine. There only remains, then, the
question of the five shillings to be settled. You think me rather
parsimonious, don't you? That's because I don't care to leave you the
means of corrupting your jailers. Besides, you will always have your
charms left to seduce them with. Employ them, if your check with regard
to Felton has not disgusted you with attempts of that kind."

"Felton has not told him," said Milady to herself. "Nothing is lost,
then."

"And now, madame, till I see you again! Tomorrow I will come and
announce to you the departure of my messenger."