r him. She closed her eyes--for the moment--to
that terrible future, that certain future; and he was holding her in his
arms, when without warning a heavy footstep began to ascend the stairs.

They sprang apart. If even then he had had presence of mind, he might
have reached the window. But he hesitated, looking in her startled
eyes, and waiting. "Is it your father?" he whispered.

She shook her head. "He cannot have returned. We should have heard the
gates opened. There is no one in the house," she murmured faintly,
listening while she spoke.

But still the footsteps came on: and stopped at the door. Felix looked
round him with eyes of despair. Close beside him, just behind the stove,
was the door of a closet. He took two strides, and before he or she had
thought of the consequences, he was in the closet. Softly he drew the
door to again; and she sank terrified on a chair, as the door of the
room opened.

He who came in was not her father but a man of thirty-five, a stranger
to her. A man with a projecting chin. His keen grey eyes wore at the
moment of his entrance an expression of boredom and petulance, but when
he caught sight of her, this passed, as a cloud from the sky. He came
across the floor smiling. "Pardon me," he said--but said it as if no
pardon were needed, "I found the stables--insupportably dull. I set out
on a voyage of discovery. I have found my America!" And he bowed in a
style which puzzled the frightened girl.

"You want to see my father?" she stammered, "He----"

"He has gone to the Duchess's. I know it. And very ill-natured it was of
him to leave me in the stable, instead of entrusting me to your care,
mistress. La Noue," he continued, "is in the stable still, asleep on a
bundle of hay, and a pretty commotion there will be--when he finds I
have stolen away!"

Laughing with an easy carelessness that struck the citizen's daughter
with fresh astonishment, the stranger drew up the armchair, which was
commonly held sacred to M. Toussaint's use, and threw himself into it;
lazily disposing his booted feet in the glow which poured from the
stove, and looking across at his companion with admiration in his bold
eyes. At another time she might have been offended by the look: or she
might not. Women are variable. Now her fears lest Felix should be
discovered dulled her apprehension.

Yet the name of La Noue had caught her ear. She knew it well, as all
France and the Low Countries knew it in those days