promises, he urged her to no more demonstration of affection
towards him. But their eyes met, their glances conquered the dimness
of the candle's light and spoke to one another. Rain beat and wind
howled outside. Dieppe heard nothing but an outspoken confession that
left honour safe and inviolate, and yet told him the sweetest thing
that he could hear--a thing so sweet that for the instant its sadness
was forgotten. He had triumphed, though he could have no reward of
victory. He was loved, though he might hear no words of love. But he
could serve her still--serve her and save her from the danger and
humiliation which, notwithstanding Count Andrea's softened mood, still
threatened her. That he even owed her; for he did not doubt that the
danger, and the solitude in which, but for him, it had to be faced, had
done much to ripen and to quicken her regard for him. As for himself,
with such a woman as the Countess in the case, he was not prepared to
own the need of any external or accidental stimulus. Yet beauty
distressed is beauty doubled; that is true all the world over, and, no
doubt, it held good even for Captain Dieppe. He had been loyal--under
the circumstances wonderfully loyal--to the Count; but he felt quite
justified, if he proved equal to the task, in robbing his friend of the
privilege of forgiveness--aye, and of the pleasure of paying fifty
thousand francs. He resolved that the Count of Fieramondi should never
know of Paul de Roustache's threats against the Countess or of his
demand for that exorbitant sum of money.

With most people in moments of exaltation to resolve that a result is
desirable is but a preliminary to undertaking its realisation. Dieppe
had more than his share of this temper. He bent down towards his new
and dear friend, and said confidently:

"Don't distress yourself about this fellow--I 'll manage the whole
affair without trouble or publicity." Yet he had no notion how his
words were to be made good.

"You will?" she asked, with a confidence in the Captain apparently as
great as his own.

"Certainly," said he, with a twirl of his moustache.

"Then I 'd better leave it to you and go home at once."

The inference was not quite what the Captain had desired. But he
accepted it with a tolerably good grace. When a man has once resisted
temptation there is little to be gained, and something perhaps to be
risked, by prolonging the interview.

"I suppose so," said he. "I 'll