owards her with a gasp.

"Or else that what?" she demanded. "Ma foi, it only remains that you
should wish you had kept your promise to this scum."

"I almost wish it, Madame. I pledged my word to him."

"You talk as if you were a man," said her mother; "as if your word was a
thing that bound you. It is a woman's prerogative to change her mind. As
for this Republican scum--"

"You shall not call him that," was the rejoinder, sharply delivered;
for Suzanne was roused at last. "He is twenty times more noble and brave
than any gentleman, that I have ever met. We owe our liberty to him at
this moment, and sufficiently have I wronged him by my actions--"

"Fool, what are you saying?" cried the enraged Marquise. "He, more noble
and brave than any gentleman that you ever met? He--this kennel-bred
citizen-ruffian of a revolutionist? Are you mad, girl, or--" The
Marquise paused a moment and took a deep breath that was as a gasp of
sudden understanding. "Is it that you are in love with this wretch!"

"Madame!" The exclamation was laden with blended wonder, dignity, and
horror.

"Well?" demanded Madame de Bellecour severely. "Answer me, Suzanne. Are
you in love with this La Boulaye?"

"Is there the need to answer?" quoth the girl scornfully. "Surely you
forget that I am Mademoiselle de Bellecour, daughter of the Marquise
de Bellecour, and that this man is of the canaille, else you had never
asked the question."

With an expression of satisfaction the Marquise was sinking back in the
carriage, when of a sudden she sat bolt upright.

"Someone is riding very desperately," she cried, a note of alarm ringing
in her voice.

Above the thud of the coach-horses' hoofs and the rumble of their
vehicle sounded now the clatter of someone galloping madly in their
wake. Mademoiselle looked from the window into the gathering dusk.

"It will be some courier, Madame," she answered calmly. "None other
would ride at such a pace."

"I shall know no rest until we are safely in a Christian country again,"
the Marquise complained.

The hoof-beats grew nearer, and the dark figure of a horseman dashed
suddenly past the window. Simultaneously, a loud, harsh command to halt
rang out upon the evening air.

The Marquise clutched at her daughter's arm with one hand, whilst with
the other she crossed herself, as though their assailant were some
emissary of the powers of evil.

"Mother in Heaven, deliver us!" she gasped, turning suddenly devout