hoped you wouldn't find
out that I meant to let Count Godensky drive part of the way back with
me and Marianne. I ran the risk, and--the very thing happened which I
ought to have known would happen. As for what he had to tell me, it was
nothing; only vague hints of trouble from which he, as one of an inner
circle, might save you, if I--would be grateful enough."

"The scoundrel!" broke out Raoul, convinced now, his eyes blazing.
"I'll--"

He stopped suddenly. But I knew what had been on his lips to say. He
meant to send a challenge to Count Godensky. I must prevent him from
doing that.

"No, Raoul," I said, as if he had finished his sentence, "you musn't
fight. For my sake, you mustn't. Don't you see, it's just what he'd like
best? It would be a way of doing me the most dreadful injury. Think of
the scandal. Oh, you _will_ think of it, when you're cooler. For you, I
would not fear much, for I know what a swordsman you are, and what a
shot--far superior to Godensky, and with right on your side. But I would
fear for myself. Promise you won't bring this trouble upon me."

"I promise," he answered. "Oh, my darling, what wouldn't I promise you,
to atone for my brutal injustice to an angel? How thankful I am that I
came to you to-night! I meant not to come. I was afraid of myself, and
what I might do. But at last I couldn't hold out against the something
that seemed forcing me here in spite of all resistance. Do you forgive
me?"

"As a reward for your promise," I said, smiling at him through tears
that would come because I was worn out, and because I knew that it was I
who needed his forgiveness, not he mine. "Now are you happy again?" I
asked.

"Yes, I'm happy," he said. "Though on the way to this house I didn't
dream that it would be possible for me to know happiness any more in
this world. And even at your gate--" He stopped suddenly, and his face
changed. I waited an instant, but seeing that he didn't mean to go on, I
could not resist questioning him. I had to know what had happened at my
gate.

"Even at the gate--what?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm sorry I spoke. I want to show you how completely I trust
you now, by not speaking of that."

But this reticence of his only made me more anxious to hear what he had
been going to say. I was afraid that I could guess. But I must have it
from his lips, and be able to explain away the mystery which, when it
recurred to him in the future, might make him doubt me, even thoug