I heard her whisper, and then she raised
her hand against him. "No, no, no," she said, with sharp anguish, "do
not try to force me to your wishes--do not; for I, at least, will never
live to see it. I have suffered more than I can bear I will end this
shame, I will--"

I had heard enough. I stepped back quickly, closed the panel, and
went softly to the door and into the hall, determined to bring her out
against Doltaire, trusting to Gabord not to oppose me.

XXVII. A SIDE-WIND OF REVENGE

I knew it was Doltaire's life or mine, and I shrank from desecrating
this holy place; but our bitter case would warrant this, and more. As I
came quickly through the hall, and round the corner where stood Gabord,
I saw a soldier talking with the Mother Superior.

"He is not dead?" I heard her say.

"No, holy Mother," was the answer, "but sorely wounded. He was testing
the fire-organs for the rafts, and one exploded too soon."

At that moment the Mother turned to me, and seemed startled by my look.
"What is it?" she whispered.

"He would carry her off," I replied.

"He shall never do so," was her quick answer. "Her father, the good
Seigneur, has been wounded, and she must go to him."

"I will take her," said I at once, and I moved to open the door. At that
moment I caught Gabord's eye. There I read what caused me to pause. If
I declared myself now, Gabord's life would pay for his friendship to
me--even if I killed Doltaire; for the matter would be open to all then
just the same. That I could not do, for the man had done me kindnesses
dangerous to himself. Besides, he was a true soldier, and disgrace
itself would be to him as bad as the drum-head court-martial. I made up
my mind to another course even as the perturbed "aho" which followed our
glance fell from his puffing lips.

"But no, holy Mother," said I, and I whispered in her ear. She opened
the door and went in, leaving it ajar. I could hear only a confused
murmur of voices, through which ran twice, "No, no, monsieur," in
Alixe's soft, clear voice. I could scarcely restrain myself, and I am
sure I should have gone in, in spite of all, had it not been for Gabord,
who withstood me.

He was right, and as I turned away I heard Alixe cry, "My father, my
poor father!"

Then came Doltaire's voice, cold and angry: "Good Mother, this is a
trick."

"Your Excellency should be a better judge of trickery," she replied
quietly. "Will not your Excellency leave an unhappy