its perfect beauty. At length I plucked it. I never
regretted the waiting; the fruit tasted only the sweeter. . . . You
are like that peach, Madame. By the Cross, over which these Jesuits
mumble, but you are worth a dance with death!"

"Had you a mother, Monsieur?"

This unexpected question made him widen his eyes. "Truly, else I had
not been here."

"Did she die in peace?"

He frowned. "It matters not how she died." He sat on the edge of the
table and swung one leg to and fro. "Some men would give their chance
of heaven for a taste of those lips."

"Your chance of heaven, Monsieur, is remote." The setting sun came in
through the door and filled her eyes with a golden haze. If there was
any fear, the pride on her face hid it.

"Ye gods, but you are a beauty! I can wait no longer for that kiss."

His leg slid from the table. He walked toward her, and she shrank back
till she met with the wall. He sprang forward, laughing. She
struggled in his strong arms, uselessly. With one hand he pressed up
her chin and kissed her squarely on the lips. Then he let her go. She
drew her hand across her mouth and spat upon the floor.

"What! So soon, Madame?"

Her bosom rose and fell quickly, as much from rage and hate as from the
exertion of the struggle.

"God will punish you, Monsieur, as he punishes all men who abuse their
strength as you have done,--punish you for the misery you have brought
upon me."

"What! and I bring you love?"

She wiped her lips again, this time on her sleeve.

"Does it burn like that, then?" laughing.

"It is poison," simply.

Outside the Chevalier writhed and twisted and strained. The agony!
She was alone in there, helpless. To be free, free! He wept, strove
vainly to loose his bonds. He cried aloud in his anguish. And the
vicomte heard him. He came to the door where he could see his enemy in
torture and at the same time prevent madame's escape.

"Is that you, Chevalier? Do you recollect the coin? I am a generous
debtor. I am paying you a hundred for one. Madame and I shall soon be
on the way to Montreal. Remember her kindly. And you will tarry here
till they find you, eh?"

"Vicomte, you were a brave man once. Be brave again. Do not torture
me like this. Take your sword and run it through my heart, and I shall
thank you."

Somberly the vicomte gazed down at him. He drowned the glimmer of pity
in the thought of how this man had thwarted him in the pa