in the roof.
It was all the air I dared to take. I constantly wore the disguise I had
first set out with; as constantly had I renewed the disfiguring dye
which changed my hair and complexion. But the perpetual state of terror
in which I had been during the whole months succeeding my escape from
Les Rochers made me loathe the idea of ever again walking in the open
daylight, exposed to the sight and recognition of every passer-by. In
vain Amante reasoned--in vain the doctor urged. Docile in every other
thing, in this I was obstinate. I would not stir out. One day Amante
returned from her work, full of news--some of it good, some such as to
cause us apprehension. The good news was this; the master for whom she
worked as journeyman was going to send her with some others to a great
house at the other side of Frankfort, where there were to be private
theatricals, and where many new dresses and much alteration of old ones
would be required. The tailors employed were all to stay at this house
until the day of representation was over, as it was at some distance
from the town, and no one could tell when their work would be ended.
But the pay was to be proportionately good.

The other thing she had to say was this: she had that day met the
travelling jeweller to whom she and I had sold my ring. It was rather a
peculiar one, given to me by my husband; we had felt at the time that it
might be the means of tracing us, but we were penniless and starving,
and what else could we do? She had seen that this Frenchman had recognised
her at the same instant that she did him, and she thought at the same
time that there was a gleam of more than common intelligence on his face
as he did so. This idea had been confirmed by his following her for some
way on the other side of the street; but she had evaded him with her
better knowledge of the town, and the increasing darkness of the night.
Still it was well that she was going to such a distance from our
dwelling on the next day; and she had brought me in a stock of provisions,
begging me to keep within doors, with a strange kind of fearful oblivion
of the fact that I had never set foot beyond the threshold of the house
since I had first entered it--scarce ever ventured down the stairs. But,
although my poor, my dear, very faithful Amante was like one possessed
that last night, she spoke continually of the dead, which is a bad
sign for the living. She kissed you--yes! it was you, my daughter, my