n thither to aid in the punishment of this Jean L'as!"

"You will stay here," said Lady Catharine. "Wait! There may be need! For
the present, go!"

Left alone, Lady Catharine stood for a moment pale and motionless, in
the center of the room. She strode then to the window and stood looking
fixedly out. Her whole figure was tense, rigid. Yonder, over there,
across the gabled roofs of Paris, they were clamoring at the door of him
who had given back Paris to the king, and Franceagain to its people.
They were assailing him--this man so long unfaltering, so insistent on
his ambitions, so--so steadfast! Could she call him steadfast? And they
would seize him in spite of the courage which she knew would never fail.
They would kill, they would rend, they would trample him! They would
crush that glorious body, abase the lips that had spoke so well of love!

The clenched fingers of Lady Catharine broke apart, her arms were flung
wide in a gesture of resolution. She turned from the window, looking
here and there about the room. Unconsciously she stopped before the
great cheval-glass that hung against the wall. She stood there, looking
at her own image, keenly, deeply.

She saw indeed a woman fit for sweet usages of love, comely and rounded,
deep-bosomed, her oval face framed in the piled masses of glorious
red-brown hair. But her wide, blue eyes, scarce seeing this outward
form, stared into the soul of that other whom she witnessed.

It was as though the Lady Catharine Knollys at last saw another self and
recognized it! A quick, hard sob broke from her throat. In haste she
flew, now to one part of the room, now to another, picking up first this
article and then that which seemed of need. And so at last she hurried
to the bell-cord.

"Quick," cried she, as the servant at length appeared. "Quick! Do not
delay an instant! My carriage at once!"

CHAPTER XII

THAT WHICH REMAINED

As for John Law, all through that fatal day which meant for him the ruin
of his ambitions, he continued in the icy calm which, for days past, had
distinguished him. He discontinued his ordinary employments, and spent
some hours in sorting and destroying numbers of papers and documents.
His faithful servant, the Swiss, Henri, he commanded to make ready his
apparel for a journey.

"At six this evening," said he, "Henri, we shall be ready to depart. Let
us be quite ready well before that time."

"Monsieur is leaving Paris?" asked the Swiss, res