he paid no heed.

"I am sorry, Madame la Vicomtesse," he began, "but--"

"But you do not believe that I speak the truth," she replied quietly.

He winced.

"Will you follow me?" she said, turning again.

He had started, plainly in an agony of fear, when a sound came from
beyond the wall that brought a cry to his lips.

Her manner changed to one of stinging scorn.

"You are a coward," she said. "I will bring the gentleman to you if he
can be got to leave the bedside."

"No," said the Alcalde, "no. I--I will go to him, Madame la Vicomtesse."

But she did not open the door.

"Listen," she said in a tone of authority, "I myself have been to his
Excellency to-day concerning this gentleman--"

"You, Madame la Vicomtesse?"

"I will open the door," she continued, impatient at the interruption,
"and you will see him. Then I shall write a letter which you will take
to the Governor. The gentleman will not try to escape, for his mother is
dying. Besides, he could not get out of the city. You may leave your
constable where he is, or the man may come in and stand at this door in
sight of the gentleman while you are gone--if he pleases."

"And then?" said the Alcalde.

"It is my belief that his Excellency will allow the gentleman to remain
here, and that you will be relieved from the necessity of running any
further risk."

As she spoke she opened the door, softly. The room was still now, still
as death, and the Alcalde went forward on tiptoe. I saw him peering in,
I saw him backing away again like a man in mortal fear.

"Yes, it is he--it is the man," he stammered. He put his hand to his
brow.

The Vicomtesse closed the door, and without a glance at him went quickly
to the table and began to write. She had no thought of consulting the
man again, of asking his permission. Although she wrote rapidly, five
minutes must have gone by before the note was finished and folded and
sealed. She held it out to him.

"Take this to his Excellency," she said, "and bring me his answer." The
Alcalde bowed, murmured her title, and went lamely out of the house. He
was plainly in an agony of uncertainty as to his duty, but he glanced at
the Vicomtesse--and went, flipping the note nervously with his finger
nail. He paused for a few low-spoken words with the tawdry constable,
who sat down on the banquette after his chief had gone, still clinging to
the bridle. The Vicomtesse went to the doorway, looked at him, and
closed the battene