resence: she
acknowledged his greeting with a slight inclination of the head, and
in reply to certain perfunctory queries of his--which he put to her
in order to justify his appearance--she either nodded or gave curt
monosyllabic answers through partially closed lips.

"I trust that everything is arranged for your comfort, Lady Blakeney."

"I thank you, sir."

"You will be rejoining the 'Day-Dream' to-night. Can I send a messenger
over to the yacht for you?"

"I thank you. No."

"Sir Percy is well. He is fast asleep, and hath not asked for your
ladyship. Shall I let him know that you are well?"

A nod of acquiescence from Marguerite and Chauvelin's string of queries
was at an end. He marvelled at her quietude and thought that she should
have been as restless as himself.

Later on in the day, and egged on by Collot d'Herbois and by his own
fears, he had caused Marguerite to be removed from No. 6.

This change he heralded by another brief visit to her, and his attitude
this time was one of deferential apology.

"A matter of expediency, Lady Blakeney," he explained, "and I trust that
the change will be for your comfort."

Again the same curt nod of acquiescence on her part, and a brief:

"As you command, Monsieur!"

But when he had gone, she turned with a sudden passionate outburst
towards the Abbe Foucquet, her faithful companion through the past long,
weary hours. She fell on her knees beside him and sobbed in an agony of
grief.

"Oh! if I could only know... if I could only see him!... for a minute...
a second!... if I could only know!..."

She felt as if the awful uncertainty would drive her mad.

If she could only know! If she could only know what he meant to do.

"The good God knows!" said the old man, with his usual simple
philosophy, "and perhaps it is all for the best."

The room which Chauvelin had now destined for Marguerite was one which
gave from the larger one, wherein last night he had had his momentous
interview with her and with Sir Percy.

It was small, square and dark, with no window in it: only a small
ventilating hole high up in the wall and heavily grated. Chauvelin,
who desired to prove to her that there was no wish on his part to add
physical discomfort to her mental tortures, had given orders that the
little place should be made as habitable as possible. A thick, soft
carpet had been laid on the ground; there was an easy chair and a
comfortable-looking couch with a couple of p