skmaster, then you must know all that has
occurred."

"I had a vague hope that I might see you."

"For what purpose?"

"To warn you if I could."

"I need no warning."

"Or are too proud to take one.... Do you know, Lady Blakeney, that
Citizen Chauvelin has a personal hatred against your husband?"

"How do you know that?" asked Marguerite, with her suspicions once more
on the qui-vive. She could not understand Candeille's attitude. This
midnight visit, the vehemence of her language, the strange mixture of
knowledge and ignorance which she displayed. What did this woman know of
Chauvelin's secret plans? Was she his open ally, or his helpless tool?
And was she even now playing a part taught her or commanded her by that
prince of intriguers?

Candeille, however, seemed quite unaware of the spirit of antagonism
and mistrust which Marguerite took but little pains now to disguise. She
clasped her hands together, and her voice shook with the earnestness of
her entreaty.

"Oh!" she said eagerly, "have I not seen that look of hatred in
Chauvelin's cruel eyes?... He hates your husband, I tell you.... Why I
know not... but he hates him.. and means that great harm shall come to
Sir Percy through this absurd duel.... Oh! Lady Blakeney, do not let him
go... I entreat you, do not let him go!"

But Marguerite proudly drew back a step or two, away from the reach of
those hands, stretched out towards her in such vehement appeal.

"You are overwrought, Mademoiselle," she said coldly. "Believe me, I
have no need either of your entreaties or of your warning.... I should
like you to think that I have no wish to be ungrateful... that I
appreciate any kind thought you may have harboured for me in your
mind.... But beyond that... please forgive me if I say it somewhat
crudely--I do not feel that the matter concerns you in the least.... The
hour is late," she added more gently, as if desiring to attenuate the
harshness of her last words. "Shall I send my maid to escort you home?
She is devoted and discreet..."

"Nay!" retorted the other in tones of quiet sadness, "there is no need
of discretion... I am not ashamed of my visit to you to-night.... You
are very proud, and for your sake I will pray to God that sorrow and
humiliation may not come to you, as I feared.... We are never likely
to meet again, Lady Blakeney... you will not wish it, and I shall have
passed out of your life as swiftly as I had entered into it.... But
there was