kelihood of succeeding. In
something less than an hour--for he hired himself a horse at the nearest
post-house--he had delivered his letter to Mademoiselle at Choisy.

Its contents sowed in her heart the very deepest consternation--a
consternation very fully shared by the Vicomte.

"Tenez!" he exclaimed, when he had read it. "Perhaps now you will admit
the justice of my plaint that you did not make a simple purchase of
my liberty, as I counselled you, instead of entering into this idiotic
compact with that sans-culotte."

She looked at him a moment in silence. She was suffering as it was
at the very thought that La Boulaye's life might be in danger in
consequence of what he had done for her. With reluctance had she
accepted the sacrifice of his career which he had made to serve her.
Now that it became the question of a sacrifice of life as well she was
dismayed. All the wrongs that she and hers had done that man seemed to
rise up and reproach her now. And so, when presently she answered
the Vicomte, it was no more than natural that she should answer him
impatiently.

"I thought, Monsieur, that we had already discussed and settled that?"

"Settled it?" he echoed, with a sneer. "It seems none so easy to settle.
Do you think that words will settle it."

"By no means," she answered, her voice quivering. "It seems as if a
man's life will be required for that."

He shrugged his shoulders, and his face put on a look of annoyance.

"I hope, Mademoiselle, that you are not proposing to introduce
sentimentality. I think you would be better advised to leave that
vulgarity to the vulgar."

"I do not propose to pursue the discussion at all, Monsieur," was her
chilly answer.

"The way of woman," he reflected aloud. "Let her find that she is being
worsted in argument, and she calmly tells you that she has no mind
to pursue it. But, Mademoiselle, will you tell me at least what you
intend?"

"What do I intend?" she questioned. "What choice have we?"

"Whenever we are asked to follow a given course, we have always the
choice between two alternatives," he theorised. "We can comply, or not
comply."

"In the present instance I am afraid your rule is inapplicable. There is
no room for any alternative. We can do nothing but wait."

She looked at him impatiently, and wearily she sank on to a chair.

"Monsieur," she said, as calmly as might be, "I am almost distracted by
my thoughts as it is. I don't know whether you are seeki