bottom of all this, nothing surprises me,"
she cried, with a gesture of disgust.

The commandant went his way without daring to look at Mademoiselle de
Verneuil, whose dangerous beauty began to affect him.

"If I had stayed two minutes longer I should have committed the folly of
taking back my sword and escorting her," he was saying to himself as he
went down the stairs.

As Madame du Gua watched the young man, whose eyes were fixed on the
door through which Mademoiselle de Verneuil had passed, she said to him
in a low voice: "You are incorrigible. You will perish through a
woman. A doll can make you forget everything. Why did you allow her
to breakfast with us? Who is a Demoiselle de Verneuil escorted by the
Blues, who accepts a breakfast from strangers and disarms an
officer with a piece of paper hidden in the bosom of her gown like a
love-letter? She is one of those contemptible creatures by whose
aid Fouche expects to lay hold of you, and the paper she showed the
commandant ordered the Blues to assist her against you."

"Eh! madame," he replied in a sharp tone which went to the lady's heart
and turned her pale; "her generous action disproves your supposition.
Pray remember that the welfare of the king is the sole bond between us.
You, who have had Charette at your feet must find the world without him
empty; are you not living to avenge him?"

The lady stood still and pensive, like one who sees from the shore the
wreck of all her treasures, and only the more eagerly longs for the
vanished property.

Mademoiselle de Verneuil re-entered the room; the young man exchanged
a smile with her and gave her a glance full of gentle meaning. However
uncertain the future might seem, however ephemeral their union, the
promises of their sudden love were only the more endearing to them.
Rapid as the glance was, it did not escape the sagacious eye of Madame
du Gua, who instantly understood it; her brow clouded, and she was
unable to wholly conceal her jealous anger. Francine was observing her;
she saw the eyes glitter, the cheeks flush; she thought she perceived
a diabolical spirit in the face, stirred by some sudden and terrible
revulsion. But lightning is not more rapid, nor death more prompt than
this brief exhibition of inward emotion. Madame du Gua recovered her
lively manner with such immediate self-possession that Francine fancied
herself mistaken. Nevertheless, having once perceived in this woman
a violence of feeling