ed, you loved me you would grant my prayer, and
not torture me as you are doing. But since you only love yourself, you
minister only to yourself, and seek to win me by force since you desire
me."

She ceased, and her eyes fell before his glance, which remained riveted
upon her face. Immovable he stood a moment or two, then he turned from
her with a little sigh, and leaning his elbow upon the window-sill,
he gazed down into the crowds surging about the second tumbril. But
although he saw much there that was calculated to compel attention,
he heeded nothing. His thoughts were very busy, and he was doing what
Mademoiselle had bidden him. He was looking into himself. And from that
questioning he gathered not only that he loved her, but that he loved
her so well and so truly that--in spite even of all that was passed--he
must do her will, and deliver up to her the man she loved.

His resolve was but half taken when he heard her stirring in the room
behind him. He turned sharply to find that she had gained the door.

"Mademoiselle!" he called after her. She stopped, and as she turned, he
observed that her lashes were wet. But in her heart there arose now a
fresh hope, awakened by the name by which he had recalled her. "Whither
are you going?" he asked.

"Away, Monsieur," she answered. "I was realising that my journey had
indeed been in vain."

He looked at her a second in silence. Then stepping forward:

"Mademoiselle," he said, very quietly, "your arguments have prevailed,
and it shall be as you desire. The ci-devant Vicomte d'Ombreval shall go
free."

Her face seemed to grow of a sudden paler, and for an instant she stood
still as if robbed of understanding. Then she came forward with hands
outheld.

"Said I not that you were good and generous? Said I not that you could
be noble, Monsieur?" she cried, as she caught his resisting hand and
sought to carry it to her lips. "God will bless you, Monsieur--"

He drew his hand away, but without roughness. "Let us say no more,
Mademoiselle," he begged.

"But I will," she answered him. "I am not without heart, Monsieur, and
now that you have given me this proof of the deep quality of your love,
I--" She paused, as if at a loss for words.

"Well, Mademoiselle?" he urged her.

"I have it in my heart to wish that--that it were otherwise," she said,
her cheeks reddening under his gaze. "If it were not that I account
myself in honour bound to wed M. le Vicomte--"

"Stop!"