my room.
She brought me some chocolate, and she told me that you were near. I
think that I should have died but for her. I began to listen to what
they said. I found out that they never meant to take me to Illghera. It
was the convent all the time. Adelaide brought me more chocolate, and
kissed me. Then I made up my mind to fight. I would not take their food.
I told myself all the time that I was not ill--I would not be ill. That
is why I was able to look out for you, to strike at the Baron when he
tried to shoot you, and to walk by myself. Arnold, why does my aunt hate
me so?"

I did not answer her, for even as she talked her voice grew fainter and
fainter, and in a moment or two she was in a dead sleep. Her head fell
upon my shoulder, her hand rested in mine. So she remained until we
reached the outskirts of Paris. Then the noise of passing vehicles, and
the altered motion of the car over the large cobble-stones woke her. She
pressed my arm.

"I am safe, Arnold?" she murmured, with a shade of anxiety still in her
tone.

"Quite," I assured her.

In a few moments we turned into the Rue de St. Antoine and drew up
before Monsieur Feurgeres' house. In the hall we met Tobain. I could see
that she had been weeping, and her tone, as she took me a little on one
side, was full of anxiety.

"Monsieur," she murmured, "I am afraid----"

I stopped her.

"The young lady first," I said. "She has been ill. Where shall I take
her?"

She threw open the door of the dining-room. A small round table,
elegantly appointed, was spread with such a supper as Feurgeres knew
well how to order. There was a gold foiled bottle, flowers, salads and
fruits. Tobain nodded vigorously as she drew up a chair for Isobel.

"It was Monsieur himself who ordered everything," she exclaimed. "He was
so particular that everything should be of the best, and the wine he
fetched himself."

"Where is Monsieur Feurgeres?" I asked, struck by some note of hidden
feeling in her tone.

"I will take you to him," she answered, "if Mademoiselle will wait
here."

In the hall she no longer concealed her fears.

"Monsieur," she said, "I am afraid. Soon after you had left, and the
master had given his orders for the supper, he called me to him. He was
standing before the door of Madame's chamber, the room which it is not
permitted to enter, and his hands and arms were full of flowers. He had
been to the florists himself, I knew, for there were more than usual