etters!" she cried. "You have other letters!" And
freed for the moment from her terror, she fixed her eyes on his and
strove to read his face.

He looked at her, his mouth grown hard. "What do you mean, Madame?" he
asked,

"You have other letters?"

"For whom?"

"From the King, for Angers!"

He saw that she was going to confess, that she was going to derange his
cherished plan; and unreasonable anger awoke in the man who had been more
than willing to forgive a real injury.

"Will you explain?" he said between his teeth. And his eyes glittered
unpleasantly. "What do you mean?"

"You have other letters," she cried, "besides those which I stole."

"Which you stole?" He repeated the words without passion. Enraged by
this unexpected turn, he hardly knew how to take it.

"Yes, I!" she cried. "I! I took them from under your pillow!"

He was silent a minute. Then he laughed and shook his head.

"It will not do, Madame," he said, his lip curling. "You are clever, but
you do not deceive me."

"Deceive you?"

"Yes."

"You do not believe that I took the letters?" she cried in great
amazement.

"No," he answered, "and for a good reason." He had hardened his heart
now. He had chosen his line, and he would not spare her.

"Why, then?" she cried. "Why?"

"For the best of all reasons," he answered. "Because the person who
stole the letters was seized in the act of making his escape, and is now
in my power."

"The person--who stole the letters?" she faltered.

"Yes, Madame."

"Do you mean M. de Tignonville?"

"You have said it."

She turned white to the lips, and trembling, could with difficulty sit
her horse. With an effort she pulled it up, and he stopped also. Their
attendants were some way ahead.

"And you have the letters?" she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "You
have the letters?"

"No, but I have the thief!" Count Hannibal answered with sinister
meaning. "As I think you knew, Madame," he continued ironically, "a
while back before you spoke."

"I? Oh no, no!" and she swayed in her saddle. "What--what are you--going
to do?" she muttered after a moment's stricken silence.

"To him?"

"Yes."

"The magistrates will decide, at Angers."

"But he did not do it! I swear he did not."

Count Hannibal shook his head coldly.

"I swear, Monsieur, I took the letters!" she repeated piteously. "Punish
me!" Her figure, bowed like an old woman's over the neck of her horse,
seemed