ad almost reached him as he opened the
door to pass out.

"Raoul, I love you!"

But the door closed as, falling against it, she sank to the floor.
Before Miss Lucilla and James van Tromp could reach her she was already
losing consciousness.

XXVI

"No; stay where you are; I'll go." Derek spoke with the terse command of
subdued excitement, almost pushing Diane back, as she, too, attempted to
go to Marion's assistance. She sank obediently into one of the great
chairs, too dazed even for curiosity as to what was passing in the hail.
Derek closed the door behind him, and, though confused sounds of voices
and shuffling feet reached her, she gave them but a dulled attention. It
was not till he came back that her stunned intelligence revived
sufficiently to enable her to think.

He closed the door again, throwing himself wearily into another of the
big leathern chairs.

"They've taken her into Lucilla's room. She'll be all right now. It was
better that it should end like that."

"I'm not so sure. I'm afraid for him."

"Oh, he'll survive it."

"You don't know our Frenchmen. They're not like you, nor any of your
men. With their sensitiveness to honor and their indifference to moral
right, it's difficult for you to understand them. I shouldn't be
surprised at anything he might do."

"I'll go and see him to-morrow and try to knock a little reason into
him."

"If it isn't too late."

"Oh, I dare say it will be. Everything seems to be--too late."

"It's better that some things should come too late rather than not at
all."

"What things do you mean?"

"I suppose I mean the same things as you do." He gave a long sigh that
was something of a groan, slipping down in his chair into an attitude,
not of informality, but of dejection. For the moment neither was equal
to facing the great subjects that must be met.

"I wonder what Bienville will do to himself?" he asked, suddenly,
changing his position with nervous brusqueness, leaning forward now,
with his elbows on his knees. "I wish you'd go and see him to-night."
"Well, perhaps I will. I've a good deal of fellow-feeling with him. I
can't help thinking that he and I are in much the same box, and that he
has shown me the way Out."

"Derek!"

She sprang up with a cry of alarm, standing, with hands crossed on her
breast, in a sudden access of terror.

"Oh, don't be afraid," he laughed, grimly, staring up at her. "I'm not
his sort. There are no heroics about