er side of the bed, near the wall. The
curtains hung between.

She was as light as a bird in her movements. She drew the bed-gown
nearer, thrust her feet into heelless slippers, placed convenient for
her morning rising by her maid, opened the box of pistols, lifted one
of them, examining it on the instant to see that it was ready for use,
slipped on the wrapper, stepped toward the foot of the bed and waited.

The beat of the rain, the shriek of the wind, the roar of the thunder
filled the room with sound, but the woman had good ears and they were
well trained. She could hear someone softly moving. Sometimes, in
lulls in the storm, she thought she could detect heavy breathing.

The natural impulse of the ordinary woman would have been to scream or
if not that, having gained the floor, to rush to the door, or if not
that to pull the bell cord and summon help. But Laure d'Aumenier was
not an ordinary woman. She knew that any sound would bring aid and
rescue at once. There would be plenty of time to scream, to pull the
bell or to do whatever was necessary later. And something, she could
not tell what, something she could not recognize, impelled her to take
the course she did; to wait, armed.

But the wait began to tell on her sensibilities. The sound of somebody
or something moving mysteriously to-and-fro behind the curtains over
against the wall at the other end of the room began to work on her
nerves. It takes an iron steadiness, a passive capacity for endurance
which is quite different from woman's more or less emotional courage,
to wait under circumstances like that.

Just when she had reached the limit of her endurance and was persuaded
that she could stand no more, her attention was attracted by a slight
click as of a lock or catch, a movement as of something heavy, as of a
drawer or door, and then the footsteps turned and came toward the
window. The moment of action had arrived and with it came the return
of her wavering courage.

To reach the window the intruder must pass by the foot of the bed where
she stood. Now the light was on the table at the head of the bed and
the table was far enough from the bed to shine past her into the room.
The moving figure suddenly came into view. It was a man, shrouded in a
heavy cloak. He did not glance toward the bed. His eyes were fixed on
the window. His astonishment, therefore, was overwhelming when he
suddenly found himself looking into the barrel of a pi