--perhaps, because of the discovery that this man meant her no
harm, intended to exact no horrible atonement from her--a revulsion of
feeling took place in the woman's breast.

"No, no!" she cried, springing to her feet. "No, no! Do not go--for
God's sake do not attempt to quit the town yet! You will be lost--if
you are seen--lost, lost! Ah, heavens!" she screamed, for at that
moment there boomed a cannon from the _chateau_, "the sunset gun! The
sunset gun! It is too late!"

"What is too late?" he asked advancing toward her. "What?" And as he
spoke he seized her wrist. "Woman, what do you mean? Is this some
fresh plot, some new treachery? Answer me. Am I trapped--and by you?"

"No, no!" she wailed, afraid to tell what she had done, afraid that
even now, ere the soldiers should come, he would strangle the life out
of her, or thrust the sword he carried by his side through her heart.
"No, no! But it is known--they know--that you have been a
_galerien_--you will be arrested! The mark upon your shoulder is known
to the commandant."

"How?" he said, again seizing her by the arm. "How? Who knows it? Who?
Outside this house none can have seen it."

"Come!" she replied, not daring to answer him; "come, hide. They will
look for you here. Yet I can secrete you till the search is over. For
a week--months--if need be. Come."

"They know I am here! Through _you_?"

"No, no! The mark was seen when you lay insensible--ah!" she screamed
again. "See, see! it is too late! They are in the garden. It is too
late!"

It was true. Along the garden path to which the windows of her _salon_
opened, six soldiers were advancing led by a young officer. Across
their shoulders were slung their muskets; the officer carried his
drawn sword. And St. Georges looking from her to them knew that he was
snared, his freedom gone. Doubtless his life, too.

"Devil," he said to the woman as she reeled back to the lounge and
fell heavily on it--"devil, I thanked you too soon. Had I known,
dreamed of this, I would have slain you as you dreaded!"

CHAPTER XXX.

"IT IS TRUE."

The windows of the _salon_ giving on to the crushed-shell path of the
Hotel de Louvigny had been open all day to let in the air, and the
handsomely apparelled young officer of the Regiment de Grance,
stationed at Rambouillet, was enabled therefore to at once enter the
room, leaving his men outside. Yet as he did so he seemed bewildered
and astonished at the sight which