rprise. For an instant a wild hope
awoke within him, only to die. She had come but to save her brother, as
she had said, and the painfulness of her duty was only too apparent.

"And--and who has imposed this strange condition?" he says, at length,
quietly, mastering himself.

"Your servant Bertrand, who is all-powerful with Danton and who, he
promises, shall obtain the passport by six this evening."

"Were I not wounded and weak from fever, Madame, believe me, by that
hour he would deeply repent having caused you this humiliation," says
Calvert, bitterly.

"My humiliation is a slight thing in comparison with the sacrifice I ask
of you, Monsieur."

"And what of yours?" he asks, gloomily, but he did not look at her. Had
he done so he would have seen love, not self-sacrifice, shining in her
appealing eyes.

"But I have influence over this fellow--he is devoted to me--he shall do
this thing without demanding so great, so fabulous a price for his
services," he goes on, half-speaking to himself.

"'Tis indeed a fabulous price," she says, paling a little at Calvert's
words and drawing herself up proudly. "But he fancies he is serving you
by imposing this condition, and I confess that I--I dared not tell him
that you no longer loved me, lest I should lose the one hold I had on
him. For d'Azay, for me, he will do absolutely nothing." From the shadow
of the curtain she watched Calvert's face for some sign that she was
mistaken, that after all he did still love her, that what she had asked
of him would be no life-long sacrifice, but the dearest joy. But none
came. He stood quiet and thoughtful, looking down into the firelight and
betraying nothing of the conflict going on within him. His one thought
was to find a way out of this horrible trap for her, or, failing that,
to make it as easy as possible for her. He stilled the wild exultation
he felt that was making his feverish pulse leap and sink by turns. He
tried to put away temptation from him--to think only for her. This
incredible, unlooked-for happiness was not for him. He searched about in
his mind for words that would make her understand that he knew what
anguish had driven her to this extremity; that would convince her that
she had nothing to fear from him and that he would meet her as he felt
sure she wished him to meet her.

"What he asks is madness," he said, at length. "I know only too well the
insurmountable objections you have to doing what he demands; if I c