pered, and then repeated once again: "Who
are you?"

"I am His Royal Highness, Prince Amede d'Orleans," said Sir Marmaduke de
Chavasse lightly, "the kinsman of His Majesty, King Louis of France, the
mysterious foreigner who works for the religious and political freedom
of his country, and on whose head _le roi soleil_ hath set a price ...
and who, moreover, hath enflamed the romantic imagination of a beautiful
young girl, thus winning her ardent love in the present and in the near
future together with her vast fortune and estates."

He made a movement as if to remove his perruque but she stopped him with
a gesture. She had understood. And in the brilliant moonlight a complete
revelation of his personality might prove dangerous. Lady Sue herself
might still--for aught they knew--be standing in the dark room
behind--unseen yet on the watch.

He seemed vastly amused at her terror, and boldly took the hand with
which she had arrested his act of total revelation.

"Nay! do you recognize your humble servant at last, fair Editha?" he
queried. "On my honor, madam, Lady Sue is deeply enamored of me. What
think you of my chances now?"

"You? You?" she repeated at intervals, mechanically, dazed still, lost
in a whirl of conflicting emotions wherein fear, amazement, and a
certain vein of superstitious horror fought a hard battle in her dizzy
brain.

"The risks," she murmured more coherently.

"Bah!"

"If she discover you, before ... before ..."

"Before she is legally my wife? Pshaw! ... Then of a truth my scheme
will come to naught ... But will you not own, Editha, that 'tis worth
the risk?"

"Afterwards?" she asked, "afterwards?"

"Afterwards, mistress," he rejoined enigmatically, "afterwards sits on
the knees of the gods."

And with a flourish of his broad-brimmed hat he turned on his heel and
anon was lost in the shadows of the tall yew hedge.

How long she stood there watching that spot whereon he had been
standing, she could not say. Presently she shivered; the night had
turned cold. She heard the cry of some small bird attacked by a midnight
prowler; was it the sparrow-hawk after its prey?

From the other side of the house came the sound of slow and firm
footsteps, then the opening and shutting of a door.

Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse had played his part for to-night: silently as
he had gone, so he returned to his room, whilst in another corner of the
sparrow-hawk's nest a young girl slept, dreaming dreams o