"What is it?" she said, at once curious and anxious.

"Mistress Gainor, you are to be trusted, else you would go your way. Is
not that so?"

"Yes; but I am reasonable and Margaret is dear to me. I like the vicomte
and, as for his mother, she thinks me a kind, rough old woman; and for
her nonsense about rank and blood, stuff! The girl's blood is as good
as hers."

"No doubt; but let it alone. And now I think you ought to hear his story
and I mean to tell it." And sitting in the darkness, he told her of
Avignon and Carteaux and the real meaning of the duel and how the matter
would go on again some day, but how soon fate alone could determine. She
listened, appalled at the tragic story which had come thus fatefully
from a far-away land into the life of a quiet Quaker family.

"It is terrible and sad," she said. "And he has spoken to no one but you
of this tragedy? It must be known to many."

"The death, yes. Carteaux's share in it, no. He was an unknown young
_avocat_ at the time."

"How reticent young De Courval must be! It is singular at his age."

"He had no reason to talk of it; he is a man older than his years. He
had in fact his own good reason for desiring not to drive this villain
out of his reach. He is a very resolute person. If he loves this dear
child, he will marry her, if a dozen mothers stand in the way."

"There will be two. I see now why Mary Swanwick is always sending
Margaret to me or to Darthea Wynne. I think the maid cares for him."

"Ah, my dear Miss Gainor, if I could keep them apart for a year, I
should like it. God knows where the end will be. Suppose this fellow
were to kill him! That they will meet again is sadly sure, if I know De
Courval."

"You are right," she returned. "But if, Mr. Schmidt, this shadow did not
lie across his path, would it please you? Would you who have done so
much for him--would you wish it?"

"With all my heart. But let it rest here, and let time and fate have
their way."

"I will," she said, rising. "It is cool. I must go in. It is a sad
tangle, and those two mothers! I am sometimes glad that I never married
and have no child. Good night. I fear that I shall dream of it."

"I shall have another pipe before I follow you. We are three old
cupids," he added, laughing. "We had better go out of business."

"There is a good bit of cupidity about one of us, sir."

"A not uncommon quality," laughed Schmidt.

Pleased with her jest, she went away, saying, "Tom