all celerity was I
ushered into a small chamber, opening on the one side upon the
common room, and being divided on the other by the thinnest of wooden
partitions from the adjoining apartment.

Here, the landlord having left me, I disposed myself to wait, and here I
did a thing I would not have believed myself capable of doing, a thing
I cannot think of without blushing to this very day. In short, I played
the eavesdropper--I, Marcel Saint-Pol de Bardelys. Yet, if you who read
and are nice-minded, shudder at this confession, or, worse still, shrug
your shoulders in contempt, with the reflection that such former
conduct of mine as I have avowed had already partly disposed you against
surprise at this I do but ask that you measure my sin by my temptation,
and think honestly whether in my position you might not yourselves have
fallen. Aye--be you never so noble and high-principled--I make bold to
say that you had done no less, for the voice that penetrated to my ears
was that of Roxalanne de Lavedan.

"I sought an audience with the King," she was saying, "but I could not
gain his presence. They told me that he was holding no levees, and that
he refused to see any one not introduced by one of those having the
private entree."

"And so," answered the voice of Chatellerault, in tones that were
perfectly colourless, "you come to me that I may present you to his
Majesty?"

"You have guessed it, Monsieur le Comte. You are the only gentleman
of His Majesty's suite, with whom I can claim acquaintance--however
slight--and, moreover, it is well known how high you stand in his royal
favour. I was told that they that have a boon to crave can find no
better sponsor."

"Had you gone to the King, mademoiselle," said he, "had you gained
audience, he would have directed you to make your appeal to me. I am his
Commissioner in Languedoc, and the prisoners attainted with high treason
are my property."

"Why then, monsieur," she cried in an eager voice, that set my pulses
throbbing, "you'll not deny me the boon I crave? You'll not deny me his
life?"

There was a short laugh from Chatellerault, and I could hear the
deliberate fall of his feet as he paced the chamber.

"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle, you must not overrate my powers. You must
not forget that I am the slave of Justice. You may be asking more than
is in my power to grant. What can you advance to show that I should be
justified in proceeding as you wish?"

"Helas, monsieu