t moment for me, if I am the first to bring in
authentic good news."

"You will be quite the first, I should say," she assented, "but don't
let father stay too long talking. Bring him back quickly. Remember I
haven't heard all the news yet myself."

St. Genis went up to the front door and rang the bell, then he took
leave of Crystal. De Marmont waited his opportunity. Anon, Jeanne opened
the door, and St. Genis walked quickly back down the street.

Crystal paused a moment by the open door in order to talk to Jeanne, and
while she did so de Marmont slipped quickly past her into the house and
was some way down the corridor before the two women had recovered from
their surprise. Jeanne, as was her wont, was ready to scream, but
despite the fast gathering gloom Crystal had at once recognised de
Marmont. She turned a cold look upon him.

"An intrusion, Monsieur?" she asked quietly.

"We'll call it that, Mademoiselle, an you will," he replied
imperturbably, "and if you will kindly order your servant to go, it
shall be a very brief one."

"My father is from home," she said.

De Marmont smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"I know that," he said, "or I would not be here."

"Then your intrusion is that of a coward, if you knew that I was
unprotected."

"Are you afraid of me, Crystal?" he asked with a sneer.

"I am afraid of no one," she replied. "But since you and I have nothing
to say to one another, I beg that you will no longer force your company
upon me."

"Your pardon, but there is something very important which I must say to
you. I have news of to-day's doings out there at Waterloo, which bear
upon the whole of your future and upon your happiness. I myself leave
for England in less than half an hour. I was taking my place in the
diligence outside the Trois Rois when I saw you coming down the
cathedral steps. Fate has given me an opportunity for which I sought
vainly all day. You will never regret it, Crystal, if you listen to me
now."

"I listen," she broke in coolly. "I pray you be as brief as you can."

"Will you order the servant to go?"

For a moment longer she hesitated. Commonsense told her that it was
neither prudent nor expedient to hold converse with this man, who was an
avowed and bitter enemy of her cause. But he had spoken of the doings at
Waterloo and spoken of them in connection with her own future and her
happiness, and--prudent or not--she wanted to hear what he had to say,
in the vague h