r eyes, and with an oath he sprang to his feet.

"It shall not be!" he cried, in a tone low, but full of fury. "You shall
not do it! I will kill him first! I will kill him with this hand! Or--"
a step took him to the window, a step brought him back--ay, brought him
back exultant, and with a changed face. "Or better, we will thwart him
yet. See, Mademoiselle, do you see? Heaven is merciful! For a moment
the cage is open!" His eye shone with excitement, the sweat of sudden
hope stood on his brow as he pointed to the unguarded casement. "Come!
it is our one chance!" And he caught her by her arm and strove to draw
her to the window.

But she hung back, staring at him. "Oh no, no!" she cried.

"Yes, yes! I say!" he responded. "You do not understand. The way is
open! We can escape, Clotilde, we can escape!"

"I cannot! I cannot!" she wailed, still resisting him.

"You are afraid?"

"Afraid?" she repeated the word in a tone of wonder. "No, but I cannot.
I promised him. I cannot. And, O God!" she continued, in a sudden
outburst of grief, as the sense of general loss, of the great common
tragedy broke on her and whelmed for the moment her private misery. "Why
should we think of ourselves? They are dead, they are dying, who were
ours, whom we loved! Why should we think to live? What does it matter
how it fares with us? We cannot be happy. Happy?" she continued wildly.
"Are any happy now? Or is the world all changed in a night? No, we
could not be happy. And at least you will live, Tignonville. I have
that to console me."

"Live!" he responded vehemently. "I live? I would rather die a thousand
times. A thousand times rather than live shamed! Than see you
sacrificed to that devil! Than go out with a brand on my brow, for every
man to point at me! I would rather die a thousand times!"

"And do you think that I would not?" she answered, shivering. "Better,
far better die than--than live with him!"

"Then why not die?"

She stared at him, wide-eyed, and a sudden stillness possessed her.
"How?" she whispered. "What do you mean?"

"That!" he said. As he spoke, he raised his hand and signed to her to
listen. A sullen murmur, distant as yet, but borne to the ear on the
fresh morning air, foretold the rising of another storm. The sound grew
in intensity, even while she listened; and yet for a moment she
misunderstood him. "O God!" she cried, out of the agony of nerves
overwrought, "will