lover--standing with his back to the fire, his hands clasped behind him,
the very picture of surliness. He made none of the advances that one
might look for in a man placed as he was at that moment. He greeted her,
instead, with a complaint.

"Will you permit me, Mademoiselle, to say that in this matter you have
hardly chosen the wiser course?"

"In what matter?" quoth she, at a loss to understand him.

"In the matter of my release. I advised you in my letter to purchase my
freedom. Had you done so, we should now be in a position to start for
the frontier--for you would have made a passport a part of your bargain.
Instead of this, not only are we obliged to run the risk of waiting, but
even if this fellow should return, we shall be affronted by his company
for some days to come." And the Vicomte sniffed the air in token of
disgust.

Suzanne looked at him in an amazement that left her speechless for a
moment. At last:

"And this is your gratitude?" she demanded. "This is all that you have
to say in thanks for the discomfort and danger that I have suffered on
your behalf? Your tone is oddly changed since you wrote me that piteous,
pitiable letter from Belgium, M. le Vicomte."

He reddened slightly.

"I am afraid that I have been clumsy in my expressions," he apologised.
"But never doubt my gratitude, Mademoiselle. I am more grateful to you
than words can tell. You have done your duty to me as few women could."

The word "duty" offended her, yet she let it pass. In his monstrous
vanity it was often hopeless to make him appreciate the importance of
anything or anybody outside of himself. Of this the present occasion was
an instance.

"You must forgive me my seeming thanklessness, Mademoiselle," he
pursued. "It was the company of that sans-culotte rascal that soured
me. I had enough of him a month ago, when he brought me to Paris. It
offended me to have him stand here again in the same room with me,
and insolently refer to his pledged word as though he were a gentleman
born."

"To whom do you refer?" quoth she.

"Ma foi! How many of them are there? Why, to this fellow, La Boulaye?"

"So it seemed, and yet I could not believe it of you. Do you not realise
that your ingratitude approaches the base?"

He vouchsafed her a long, cold stare of amazement.

"Mordieu!" he ejaculated at last. "I am afraid that your reason has been
affected by your troubles. You seem, Mademoiselle, to be unmindful of
the station int