amors would soon arrive--how could she warn him? In the present
state of their relations it was not impossible that the very first words
of. Camors might immediately divulge their secret: and once betrayed,
there was not only for her personal dishonor, a scandalous fall, poverty,
a convent--but for her husband or her lover--perhaps for both--death!

When the bell in the lower court sounded, announcing the Count's
approach, these thoughts crowded into the brain of the Marquise like a
legion of phantoms. But she rallied her courage by a desperate effort and
strained all her faculties to the execution of the plan she had hastily
conceived, which was her last hope. And one word, one gesture, one
mistake, or one carelessness of her lover, might overthrow it in a
second. A moment later the door was opened by a servant, announcing M. de
Camors. Without speaking, she signed to her husband to gain his
hiding-place. The General, who had risen at the sound of the bell, seemed
still to hesitate, but shrugging his shoulders, as if in disdain of
himself, retired behind the curtain which faced the door.

M. de Camors entered the room carelessly, and advanced toward the
fireplace where sat the Marquise; his smiling lips half opened to speak,
when he was struck by the peculiar expression on the face of the
Marquise, and the words were frozen on his lips. This look, fixed upon
him from his entrance, had a strange, weird intensity, which, without
expressing anything, made him fear everything. But he was accustomed to
trying situations, and as wary and prudent as he was intrepid. He ceased
to smile and did not speak, but waited.

She gave him her hand without ceasing to look at him with the same
alarming intensity.

"Either she is mad," he said to himself, "or there is some great peril!"

With the rapid perception of her genius and of her love, she felt he
understood her; and not leaving him time to speak and compromise her,
instantly said:

"It is very kind of you to keep your promise."

"Not at all," said Camors, seating himself.

"Yes! For you know you come here to be tormented." There was a pause.

"Have you at last become a convert to my fixed idea?" she added after a
second.

"What fixed idea? It seems to me you have a great many!"

"Yes! But I speak of a good one--my best one, at least--of your
marriage!"

"What! again, cousin?" said Camors, who, now assured of his danger and
its nature, marched with a firmer foot over