ject to another as if she were trying to avoid
looking the other woman straight in the face.

"That you should search me!" reiterated Marguerite slowly, trying to
understand.

"Yes," replied the woman. "I was to tell you to take off your clothes,
so that I might look them through and through. I have often had to do
this before when visitors have been allowed inside the prison, so it is
no use your trying to deceive me in any way. I am very sharp at
finding out if any one has papers, or files or ropes concealed in an
underpetticoat. Come," she added more roughly, seeing that Marguerite
had remained motionless in the middle of the room; "the quicker you are
about it the sooner you will be taken to see the prisoner."

These words had their desired effect. The proud Lady Blakeney, inwardly
revolting at the outrage, knew that resistance would be worse than
useless. Chauvelin was the other side of the door. A call from the woman
would bring him to her assistance, and Marguerite was only longing to
hasten the moment when she could be with her husband.

She took off her kerchief and her gown and calmly submitted to the
woman's rough hands as they wandered with sureness and accuracy to the
various pockets and folds that might conceal prohibited articles. The
woman did her work with peculiar stolidity; she did not utter a word
when she found the tiny steel files and placed them on a table beside
her. In equal silence she laid the little dagger beside them, and the
purse which contained twenty gold pieces. These she counted in front
of Marguerite and then replaced them in the purse. Her face expressed
neither surprise, nor greed nor pity. She was obviously beyond the reach
of bribery--just a machine paid by the prison authorities to do this
unpleasant work, and no doubt terrorised into doing it conscientiously.

When she had satisfied herself that Marguerite had nothing further
concealed about her person, she allowed her to put her dress on once
more. She even offered to help her on with it. When Marguerite was
fully dressed she opened the door for her. Chauvelin was standing in the
passage waiting patiently. At sight of Marguerite, whose pale, set face
betrayed nothing of the indignation which she felt, he turned quick,
inquiring eyes on the woman.

"Two files, a dagger and a purse with twenty louis," said the latter
curtly.

Chauvelin made no comment. He received the information quite placidly,
as if it had no special in