ope that from a chance word carelessly dropped by Victor
de Marmont she would glean, if only a scrap, some news of that on which
St. Genis would not dwell but on which hung her heart and her very
life--the fate of the British troops.

After all he might know something, he might say something which would
help her to bear this intolerable misery of uncertainty: and on the
merest chance of that she threw prudence to the winds.

"You may go, Jeanne," she said. "But remain within call. Leave the front
door open," she added. "M. le Comte and M. le Marquis will be here
directly."

"Oh! you are well protected," said Victor de Marmont with a careless
shrug of the shoulders, as Jeanne's heavy, shuffling footsteps died away
down the corridor.

"Now, M. de Marmont," said Crystal coolly. "I listen."

She was leaning back against the wall--her hands behind her, her pale
face and large blue eyes with their black dilated pupils turned
questioningly upon him. The walls of the corridor were painted white,
after the manner of Flemish houses, the tiled floor was white too, and
Crystal herself was dressed all in white, so that the whole scene made
up of pale, soft tints looked weird and ghostly in the twilight and
Crystal like an ethereal creature come down from the land of nymphs and
of elves.

And de Marmont, too--like St. Genis a while ago--felt that never had
this beautiful woman--she was no longer a girl now--looked more
exquisite and more desirable, and he--conscious of the power which
fortune and success can give, thought that he could woo and win her once
again in spite of caste-prejudice and of political hatred. St. Genis had
felt his position unassailable by virtue of old associations, common
sympathies and youthful vows: de Marmont relied on feminine ambition,
love of power, of wealth and of station, and at this moment in Crystal's
shining eyes he only read excitement and the unspoken desire for all
that he was prepared to offer.

"I have only a few moments to spare, Crystal," he said slowly, and with
earnest emphasis, "so I will be very brief. For the moment the Emperor
has suffered a defeat--as he did at Eylau or at Leipzic--his defeats are
always momentary, his victories alone are decisive and abiding. The
whole world knows that. It needs no proclaiming from me. But in order to
retrieve that momentary defeat of to-day he has deigned to ask my help.
The gods are good to me! they have put it within my power to help my
E