there, of the happiness and
peace that were in store for them both.

"We will go to England together," he whispered, "and there we will be
happy together, you and I. We will have a tiny house among the Kentish
hills, and its walls will be covered with honeysuckle and roses. At
the back of the house there will be an orchard, and in May, when the
fruit-blossom is fading and soft spring breezes blow among the trees,
showers of sweet-scented petals will envelop us as we walk along,
falling on us like fragrant snow. You will come, sweetheart, will you
not?"

"If you still wish it, Armand," she murmured.

Still wish it! He would gladly go to-morrow if she would come with him.
But, of course, that could not be arranged. She had her contract to
fulfil at the theatre, then there would be her house and furniture to
dispose of, and there was Aunt Marie.... But, of course, Aunt Marie
would come too.... She thought that she could get away some time before
the spring; and he swore that he could not leave Paris until she came
with him.

It seemed a terrible deadlock, for she could not bear to think of him
alone in those awful Paris streets, where she knew that spies would
always be tracking him. She had no illusions as to the impression which
she had made on Heron; she knew that it could only be a momentary one,
and that Armand would henceforth be in daily, hourly danger.

At last she promised him that she would take the advice of his chief;
they would both be guided by what he said. Armand would confide in
him to-night, and if it could be arranged she would hurry on her
preparations and, mayhap, be ready to join him in a week.

"In the meanwhile, that cruel man must not risk your dear life," she
said. "Remember, Armand, your life belongs to me. Oh, I could hate him
for the love you bear him!"

"Sh--sh--sh!" he said earnestly. "Dear heart, you must not speak like
that of the man whom, next to your perfect self, I love most upon
earth."

"You think of him more than of me. I shall scarce live until I know that
you are safely out of Paris."

Though it was horrible to part, yet it was best, perhaps, that he should
go back to his lodgings now, in case Heron sent his spies back to her
door, and since he meant to consult with his chief. She had a vague hope
that if the mysterious hero was indeed the noble-hearted man whom Armand
represented him to be, surely he would take compassion on the anxiety of
a sorrowing woman, and releas