ll this some deep design.

Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him?
To discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the entrance to this
labyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now that
she knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, but
all these were blind, and led him to no end. Madame had a purpose; to
discover what this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What
a woman! She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days.
And why was the countess on the scene, and what was her part in this
invisible game?

He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved no
more than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew now what she
meant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, "Something
terrible would happen." At last he, too, sought bed, but he did not
sleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald.

Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpet
of leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show mistily through
the dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red Chateau--no
outward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but for
the prowling troopers and the continual grumbling of the Englishman when
alone with Maurice.

During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of the
duchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. In the evenings
there were tourneys at chess, games and music.

Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a little
less about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a verse of
Voiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable)
toward the subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, she
fascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour after hour. She offered
vague promises with her eyes, and refused them with her lips. Maurice,
who was never impregnable under the fire of feminine artillery, was
at times half in love with her; but his suspicions, always near the
surface, saved him.

Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, when
he kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, he would lean
so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingers
would stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from the
piano and walk swiftly from the room, through the halls, into the park,
where, though he followed, he never could find her. O