met his eyes.

Lying fainting, gasping, on her couch was Madame de Louvigny--_la
belle Louvigny_ as they called her, and toasted her nightly in the
guardroom--standing over her was a man, white to the lips, his hands
clinched, his whole form and face expressing horror and contempt.

"_Pardie!_" the young fellow muttered between his lips, "I have
interrupted a little scene, _un roman d'amour_! _Bon Dieu_ the lover
has detected madame in some little infidelity, and--and--has had a
moment of vivacity. Yet 'tis not my fault. _Devoir avant tout_," and
as he muttered the motto of the noble house to which he
belonged--perhaps as an aid in that _devoir_--he advanced into the
room after bidding his men remain where he had stationed them.

"Madame la baronne will pardon my untimely appearance," he muttered in
the most courtly manner, and with a comprehensive bow of much ease and
grace which included St. Georges, "but my orders were--what--madame
herself knows. Otherwise I should regret even more my presence here."

She, still on the lounge, her face buried in her Valenciennes
handkerchief, was as yet unable to utter a word--_he_, standing before
her, never removed his eyes from her. The officer's words had
confirmed what he suspected--what he knew.

"But," continued the lieutenant, "madame will excuse. I have my orders
to obey. The man she mentioned to the commandant has not yet
endeavoured to pass the barrier--is it madame's desire that her house
should be searched?"

She raised her head from the couch as he spoke, not daring to cast a
glance at him whom she had betrayed to his doom. Then she said, her
voice under no control and broken. "No. He is not here. He--has
escaped."

"Escaped, madame? Impossible! Rambouillet is too small even for him to
be in hiding--he----"

"Has not escaped," St. Georges said, turning suddenly on the officer.
"On the contrary, he has been betrayed. I am the man."

"You! Madame's----" and he left his sentence unfinished. "You! Here
alone with her, and a _galerien_!"

"Yes--I."

It was useless, he knew, to do aught than give himself up. Escape was
impossible. It was known, must be known in this small town, that he
was the only stranger who had entered it lately; nor did he doubt that
when the treacherous creature had informed against him she had
described him thoroughly. Even though now she lied to save him, it
would be of no avail. He could not remain in her house, hide in it as
she had