eglect, or perhaps by design, she
allowed to be seen, "What is this, madame?" he asked coldly.

"That? Nothing," said Milady, smiling with that painful expression which
she knew so well how to give to her smile. "Ennui is the mortal enemy of
prisoners; I had ennui, and I amused myself with twisting that rope."

Felton turned his eyes toward the part of the wall of the apartment
before which he had found Milady standing in the armchair in which she
was now seated, and over her head he perceived a gilt-headed screw,
fixed in the wall for the purpose of hanging up clothes or weapons.

He started, and the prisoner saw that start--for though her eyes were
cast down, nothing escaped her.

"What were you doing on that armchair?" asked he.

"Of what consequence?" replied Milady.

"But," replied Felton, "I wish to know."

"Do not question me," said the prisoner; "you know that we who are true
Christians are forbidden to lie."

"Well, then," said Felton, "I will tell you what you were doing, or
rather what you meant to do; you were going to complete the fatal
project you cherish in your mind. Remember, madame, if our God forbids
falsehood, he much more severely condemns suicide."

"When God sees one of his creatures persecuted unjustly, placed between
suicide and dishonor, believe me, sir," replied Milady, in a tone
of deep conviction, "God pardons suicide, for then suicide becomes
martyrdom."

"You say either too much or too little; speak, madame. In the name of
heaven, explain yourself."

"That I may relate my misfortunes for you to treat them as fables;
that I may tell you my projects for you to go and betray them to my
persecutor? No, sir. Besides, of what importance to you is the life or
death of a condemned wretch? You are only responsible for my body, is
it not so? And provided you produce a carcass that may be recognized as
mine, they will require no more of you; nay, perhaps you will even have
a double reward."

"I, madame, I?" cried Felton. "You suppose that I would ever accept the
price of your life? Oh, you cannot believe what you say!"

"Let me act as I please, Felton, let me act as I please," said Milady,
elated. "Every soldier must be ambitious, must he not? You are a
lieutenant? Well, you will follow me to the grave with the rank of
captain."

"What have I, then, done to you," said Felton, much agitated, "that you
should load me with such a responsibility before God and before men?
In a few days