o her own apartment, but confined
to the range of the small court which lay immediately under her own
windows.

The indignation and fury which these outrages inspired, by degrees gave
place to something like despair and panic. With the exception of her
ill-looking handmaid, and the no less sinister-visaged sentinel who
stealthily watched her movements, and between both of whom a sort of
ominous correspondence seemed to be carried on by signals, she had
latterly seen no one, but at rare intervals the hated and dreaded
apparition of Le Prun at a distance, and Blassemare once or twice.

XIII.--THE ROSE-TREE.

One day Lucille was walking in the little court we have described, when
the door of the park, which we have had occasion to signalize, opened,
and Blassemare stood within a yard or two of her.

"Good-day, madame."

"Good-day, sir."

A glance at the attendant, who seemed to regard Blassemare as Le Prun's
vicegerent, was sufficient to cause her to withdraw to some distance,
and affecting a light and easy air, which might well mislead the more
distant observers as to the serious purport of his discourse, he
continued--

"I am afraid madame is very unhappy."

"Truly, I am so."

"I fear she is also _in danger_."

She started as if a bolt of ice had pierced her heart. He had spoken in
that word the secret fears of many a long night. How inexpressibly more
terrible do our untold terrors become, when they are spoken in our ears
by the lips of strangers!

"Yes, madame, I say in danger. There are odd stories afloat about
Monsieur Le Prun--they may be all lies, I don't pretend to say; for in
truth I don't very well _comprehend_ my friend Le Prun. But it cannot be
hidden from madame, that when one wants to make away with an individual,
the first step is to conceal them--to cut them off from all intercourse
with the world, and cause them to be forgotten. Madame understands me?"

"Yes, yes--oh, my God!"

"Madame must learn to command herself, if she wishes to prolong our
conversation. We must _appear_, at least, indifferent. There are _spies_
watching our gestures and countenances, though they can't hear our
words."

"I will--thank you, thank you: but for the mercy of God, monsieur, will
you suffer me to perish?"

"No, madame, if you will aid in your own deliverance. Will you fly with
me to-morrow night?"

"If monsieur, for the charity of heaven, will undertake to act only as
my brother and protector."

"