toinette, and Philip mingled with the other
prisoners, among whom he found many noblemen and titled ladies whose
acquaintance he had made at court and at the house of the Duke de
Penthieore. Antoinette was just waking when Dolores returned to the cell
they shared in common, and she did not notice the emotion that was still
visible on her friend's face. She smiled, extended her hand and kissed
her.

"Philip?" she asked.

This was the first word she uttered.

"Philip has come. I have seen him; he is waiting for you below."

This news made Antoinette spring hastily to her feet; and arm in arm the
two girls went down to join Philip. Dolores felt Antoinette's heart
throb violently, so deeply was she moved by the thought of seeing him
whom she regarded as her betrothed. She flew to his arms with such
artless delight that he was really touched with remorse when he
remembered that, only a moment before, he had almost hated this lovely
young girl whose only fault was her love for him.

"Poor child," he said, almost tenderly, "why did you not remain in
England? Why did you expose yourself to such danger?"

"Was it not my duty to come to you that I might die with you? When,
after vainly waiting a fortnight for news of you, I heard of the death
of the queen, I said to myself that, in your fruitless efforts to save
her, you must have incurred great peril, and that you had probably been
arrested. You see that I was not mistaken. So I started to find you, and
I deem myself fortunate to be with you once more."

This response, which Dolores heard distinctly, was only another proof of
the promises Philip had made to Antoinette. These promises, consecrated
as they had been by the blessing of the Abbe Peretty, beside the
deathbed of the Marquis de Chamondrin, seemed of so sacred a nature in
the eyes of Antoinette that she really felt it her duty to treat Philip
as if their marriage was an accomplished fact.

Dolores glanced at Philip; her look seemed to say:

"Would you dare to tell her that you do not love her? No; think only of
making yourself worthy of her, and of assuring the happiness to which
she is justly entitled."

Philip was greatly embarrassed. Antoinette seemed to expect that he
would greet her arrival with some word expressive of joy or of love;
but, in spite of his efforts, he could not utter a word. The presence of
Dolores from whom he could no longer conceal the truth, intimidated him
and rendered him mute. Some