e the chauffeur. She watched until the car took its
place in the stream of traffic and disappeared. The sense of uneasiness
which had brought her to the window was unaccountable, but it seemed in
some way deepened by their departure together. Then a voice from just
behind suddenly startled her.

"Lest your reverie, dear lady, should end in spoken words not meant for
my ears, I, who often give myself up to reveries, hasten to acquaint you
with the fact of my presence."

She turned quickly around. It was Graillot who had returned noiselessly
into the room.

"You?" she exclaimed. "Why, I thought you were the first to leave."

"I returned," Graillot explained. "An impulse brought me back. A thought
came into my mind. I wanted to share it with you as a proof of the
sentiment which I feel exists between us. It is my firm belief that the
same thought, in a different guise, was traveling through your mind, as
you watched the departure of your guests."

She motioned him to a place upon the couch, close to where she had
already seated herself.

"Come," she invited, "prove to me that you are a thought-reader!"

He sank back in his corner. His hands, with their short, stubby fingers,
were clasped in front of him. His eyes, wide open and alert, seemed
fixed upon her with the ingenuous inquisitiveness of a child.

"To begin, then, I find our friend, the Prince of Seyre, a most
interesting, I might almost say a most fascinating, study."

Louise did not reply. After a moment's pause he continued:

"Let me tell you something which may or may not be unknown to you. A
matter of eighty years ago, there was first kindled in the country
places of France that fire which ultimately blazed over the whole land,
devastating, murderous, anarchic, yet purifying. The family seat of the
house of Seyre was near Orleans. In that region were many oppressors of
the poor who, when they heard the mutterings of the storm, shivered for
their safety. Upon not one of them did that furious mob of men and women
pause to waste a single moment of their time. Without even a spoken word
save one simultaneous, unanimous yell, they grouped together from all
quarters--from every hamlet, from every homestead, men and women and
even children--and moved in one solid body upon the Chateau de Seyre.
The old prince would have been burned alive but for a servant who threw
him a pistol, with which he blew out his brains, spitting at the mob.
One of the sons was caug