rescuer, and leading him to his death--nay! to worse than death. That
fiend there, in a holy man's garb, was too much of a devil to allow a
brave man to die the quick, sudden death of a soldier at the post of
duty.

He, above all, longed to have the cunning enemy, who had so long baffled
him, helpless in his power; he wished to gloat over him, to enjoy his
downfall, to inflict upon him what moral and mental torture a deadly
hatred alone can devise. The brave eagle, captured, and with noble wings
clipped, was doomed to endure the gnawing of the rat. And she, his wife,
who loved him, and who had brought him to this, could do nothing to help
him.

Nothing, save to hope for death by his side, and for one brief moment
in which to tell him that her love--whole, true and passionate--was
entirely his.

Chauvelin was now sitting close to the table; he had taken off his
hat, and Marguerite could just see the outline of his thin profile and
pointed chin, as he bent over his meagre supper. He was evidently quite
contented, and awaited events with perfect calm; he even seemed to enjoy
Brogard's unsavoury fare. Marguerite wondered how so much hatred could
lurk in one human being against another.

Suddenly, as she watched Chauvelin, a sound caught her ear, which
turned her very heart to stone. And yet that sound was not calculated
to inspire anyone with horror, for it was merely the cheerful sound of a
gay, fresh voice singing lustily, "God save the King!"

CHAPTER XXV THE EAGLE AND THE FOX

Marguerite's breath stopped short; she seemed to feel her very life
standing still momentarily whilst she listened to that voice and to that
song. In the singer she had recognised her husband. Chauvelin, too, had
heard it, for he darted a quick glance towards the door, then hurriedly
took up his broad-brimmed hat and clapped it over his head.

The voice drew nearer; for one brief second the wild desire seized
Marguerite to rush down the steps and fly across the room, to stop that
song at any cost, to beg the cheerful singer to fly--fly for his life,
before it be too late. She checked the impulse just in time. Chauvelin
would stop her before she reached the door, and, moreover, she had no
idea if he had any soldiers posted within his call. Her impetuous act
might prove the death-signal of the man she would have died to save.

"Long to reign over us, God save the King!"

sang the voice more lustily than ever. The next moment the