ir ride. It was strange with
what outward coolness I was able to carry myself, by dint of not
thinking too closely on what I had undertaken. For observe that, besides
the immediate task of the night, there was Madame's whole future
involved. And how precipitately Mathilde and I had settled upon our
course, without pausing to consider if some more prudent measures might
not be taken to the same end! But I was hurried by my feeling that I
ought to save Madame, the more because no one could say how far the
present situation was due to my having killed De Merri, and to my advent
at the chateau. Even though she might choose not to escape, it was for
me to give her the opportunity, at least. And to tell the truth, I
longed to see her again, at any cost. As for Mathilde, there were her
pressing fears of a worse fate for her mistress, to excuse her haste.
And we were both young, and thought that any project which goes straight
and smoothly in the telling must go straight and smoothly in the doing;
and we looked not far ahead.

CHAPTER IX.

THE WINDING STAIRS

I left the table early, and went to my room. I tore two strips from the
sheet of my bed, and wrapped them around my boots so as to cover the
soles and deaden my footsteps. Slowly the night came, with stars and a
moon well toward the full. But we could keep in shadow while about the
chateau, and the light would aid our travelling later. At half-past ten
o'clock, the house seemed so still I thought the Count must have gone to
bed before his usual time. I stole noiselessly from my room, feeling my
way; and partly down the stairs. But when I got to the head of the lower
flight, I saw that the hall was still lighted. I peered over the
railing. The Count and the Captain were alone, except for two knaves who
sat asleep on their bench at the lower end of the hall. The Count
lounged limply back in his great chair at the head of the table,
unsteadily holding a glass of wine; and the Captain leaned forward on
the board, narrowly regarding the Count. Both were well gone in wine,
the Count apparently the more so. There was a look of mental torment on
the Count's face.

"Yes, I know, I know," he said, wincing at his own words as if they
pierced him. "There was opportunity enough with that De Merri. I was
blind then. And with this new puppy! Women and lovers have the ingenuity
of devils in devising opportunities. And they both admit their interview
in the garden. But that he