g mischief against us," and she showed the
marquis the floating corner of Madame du Gua's drapery. Then she dried
her eyes and put her lips to the ear of the young man, who quivered as
he felt the caress of her warm breath. "See that everything is prepared
for my departure," she said; "you shall take me yourself to Fougeres and
there only will I tell you if I love you. For the second time I trust
you. Will you trust me a second time?"

"Ah, Marie, you have brought me to a point where I know not what I do. I
am intoxicated by your words, your looks, by you--by you, and I am ready
to obey you."

"Well, then, make me for an instant very happy. Let me enjoy the only
triumph I desire. I want to breathe freely, to drink of the life I have
dreamed, to feed my illusions before they are gone forever. Come--come
into the ballroom and dance with me."

They re-entered the room together, and though Mademoiselle de Verneuil
was as completely satisfied in heart and vanity as any woman ever could
be, the unfathomable gentleness of her eyes, the demure smile on her
lips, the rapidity of the motions of a gay dance, kept the secret of her
thoughts as the sea swallows those of the criminal who casts a weighted
body into its depths. But a murmur of admiration ran through the company
as, circling in each other's arms, voluptuously interlaced, with heavy
heads, and dimmed sight, they waltzed with a sort of frenzy, dreaming of
the pleasures they hoped to find in a future union.

A few moments later Mademoiselle de Verneuil and the marquis were in
the latter's travelling-carriage drawn by four horses. Surprised to
see these enemies hand in hand, and evidently understanding each other,
Francine kept silence, not daring to ask her mistress whether her
conduct was that of treachery or love. Thanks to the darkness, the
marquis did not observe Mademoiselle de Verneuil's agitation as
they neared Fougeres. The first flush of dawn showed the towers of
Saint-Leonard in the distance. At that moment Marie was saying to
herself: "I am going to my death."

As they ascended the first hill the lovers had the same thought; they
left the carriage and mounted the rise on foot, in memory of their first
meeting. When Marie took the young man's arm she thanked him by a smile
for respecting her silence; then, as they reached the summit of the
plateau and looked at Fougeres, she threw off her reverie.

"Don't come any farther," she said; "my authority cannot sa