ad stiletto which changed what might have passed for a simple death by
heartbreak into a foul assassination.

The Intendant she knew must be well aware that Caroline had been
murdered; but he had never named it or given the least token of
consciousness that such a crime had been committed in his house.

It was in vain that she repeated, with a steadiness of face which
sometimes imposed even on Bigot, her request for a lettre de cachet, or
urged the banishment of her rival, until the Intendant one day, with
a look which for a moment annihilated her, told her that her rival had
gone from Beaumanoir and would never trouble her any more.

What did he mean? Angelique had noted every change of muscle, every
curve of lip and eyelash as he spake, and she felt more puzzled than
before.

She replied, however, with the assurance she could so well assume,
"Thanks, Bigot; I did not speak from jealousy. I only asked for justice
and the fulfilment of your promise to send her away."

"But I did not send her away. She has gone away, I know not
whither,--gone, do you mind me, Angelique? I would give half my
possessions to know who helped her to ESCAPE--yes, that is the
word--from Beaumanoir."

Angelique had expected a burst of passion from Bigot; she had prepared
herself for it by diligent rehearsal of how she would demean herself
under every possible form of charge, from bare innuendo to direct
impeachment of herself.

Keenly as Bigot watched Angelique, he could detect no sign of confusion
in her. She trembled in her heart, but her lips wore their old practised
smile. Her eyes opened widely, looking surprise, not guilt, as she shook
him by the sleeve or coquettishly pulled his hair, asking if he thought
that "she had stolen away his lady-love!"

Bigot though only half deceived, tried to persuade himself of her
innocence, and left her after an hour's dalliance with the half belief
that she did not really merit the grave suspicions he had entertained of
her.

Angelique feared, however, that he was only acting a part. What part? It
was still a mystery to her, and likely to be; she had but one criterion
to discover his real thoughts. The offer of his hand in marriage was the
only test she relied upon to prove her acquittal in the mind of Bigot of
all complicity with the death of Caroline.

But Bigot was far from making the desired offer of his hand. That
terrible night in the secret chamber of Beaumanoir was not absent from
his