another thought lurking in my mind when I came to-night....
In case Sir Percy goes to France... the duel is to take place in or near
Boulogne... this much I do know... would you not wish to go with him?"

"Truly, Mademoiselle, I must repeat to you..."

"That 'tis no concern of mine... I know... I own that.... But, you see
when I came back here to-night in the silence and the darkness--I had
not guessed that you would be so proud... I thought that I, a woman,
would know how to touch your womanly heart.... I was clumsy, I
suppose.... I made so sure that you would wish to go with your husband,
in case... in case he insisted on running his head into the noose, which
I feel sure Chauvelin has prepared for him.... I myself start for France
shortly. Citizen Chauvelin has provided me with the necessary passport
for myself and my maid, who was to have accompanied me.... Then, just
now, when I was all alone... and thought over all the mischief which
that fiend had forced me to do for him, it seemed to me that perhaps..."

She broke off abruptly, and tried to read the other woman's face in
the gloom. But Marguerite, who was taller than the Frenchwoman, was
standing, very stiff and erect, giving the young actress neither
discouragement nor confidence. She did not interrupt Candeille's long
and voluble explanation: vaguely she wondered what it was all about,
and even now when the Frenchwoman paused, Marguerite said nothing, but
watched her quietly as she took a folded paper from the capacious pocked
of her cloak and then held it out with a look of timidity towards Lady
Blakeney.

"My maid need not come with me," said Desiree Candeille humbly. "I would
far rather travel alone... this is her passport and... Oh! you need not
take it out of my hand," she added in tones of bitter self-deprecation,
as Marguerite made no sign of taking the paper from her. "See! I will
leave it here among the roses!... You mistrust me now... it is only
natural... presently, perhaps, calmer reflection will come... you will
see that my purpose now is selfless... that I only wish to serve you and
him."

She stooped and placed the folded paper in the midst of a great clump of
centifolium roses, and then without another word she turned and went her
way. For a few moments, whilst Marguerite still stood there, puzzled and
vaguely moved, she could hear the gentle frou-frou of the other woman's
skirts against the soft sand of the path, and then a long-drawn sigh