his
excitement, "beyond the stretch of that wood, from far away over there,
there are cries and moans of anguish that come to my ear even now.
But for you, dear, I would cross that wood to-night and re-enter Paris
to-morrow. But for you, dear--but for you," he reiterated earnestly as
he pressed her closer to him, for a bitter cry had risen to her lips.

She went on in silence. Her happiness was great--as great as was her
pain. She had found him again, the man whom she worshipped, the husband
whom she thought never to see again on earth. She had found him, and
not even now--not after those terrible weeks of misery and suffering
unspeakable--could she feel that love had triumphed over the
wild, adventurous spirit, the reckless enthusiasm, the ardour of
self-sacrifice.

CHAPTER XLIX. THE LAND OF ELDORADO

It seems that in the pocket of Heron's coat there was a letter-case with
some few hundred francs. It was amusing to think that the brute's money
helped to bribe the ill-tempered keeper of the half-way house to receive
guests at midnight, and to ply them well with food, drink, and the
shelter of a stuffy coffee-room.

Marguerite sat silently beside her husband, her hand in his. Armand,
opposite to them, had both elbows on the table. He looked pale and wan,
with a bandage across his forehead, and his glowing eyes were resting on
his chief.

"Yes! you demmed young idiot," said Blakeney merrily, "you nearly upset
my plan in the end, with your yelling and screaming outside the chapel
gates."

"I wanted to get to you, Percy. I thought those brutes had got you there
inside that building."

"Not they!" he exclaimed. "It was my friend Heron whom they had trussed
and gagged, and whom my amiable friend M. Chambertin will find in there
to-morrow morning. By Gad! I would go back if only for the pleasure of
hearing Heron curse when first the gag is taken from his mouth."

"But how was it all done, Percy? And there was de Batz--"

"De Batz was part of the scheme I had planned for mine own escape before
I knew that those brutes meant to take Marguerite and you as hostages
for my good behaviour. What I hoped then was that under cover of a
tussle or a fight I could somehow or other contrive to slip through
their fingers. It was a chance, and you know my belief in bald-headed
Fortune, with the one solitary hair. Well, I meant to grab that hair;
and at the worst I could but die in the open and not caged in that awful
hole li