e master stroke of
the whole plan was done, when she, the wife, was enticed over too with
the story of Candeille's remorse and the offer of the passport.

Fool! fool that she was!

And how well did Chauvelin know feminine nature! How cleverly he had
divined her thoughts, her feelings, the impulsive way in which she would
act; how easily he had guessed that, knowing her husband's danger, she,
Marguerite, would immediately follow him.

Now the trap had closed on her--and she saw it all, when it was too
late.

Percy Blakeney in France! His wife a prisoner! Her freedom and safety in
exchange for his life!

The hopelessness of it all struck her with appalling force, and her
sense reeled with the awful finality of the disaster.

Yet instinct in her still struggled for freedom. Ahead of her, and all
around, beyond the tent and in the far distance there was a provocative
alluring darkness: if she only could get away, only could reach the
shelter of that remote and sombre distance, she would hide, and wait,
not blunder again, oh no! she would be prudent and wary, if only she
could get away!

One woman's struggles, against five men! It was pitiable, sublime,
absolutely useless.

The man in the tent seemed to be watching her with much amusement for a
moment or two, as her whole graceful body stiffened for that absurd and
unequal physical contest. He seemed vastly entertained at the sight of
this good-looking young woman striving to pit her strength against five
sturdy soldiers of the Republic.

"Allons! that will do now!" he said at last roughly. "We have no time
to waste! Get the jade away, and let her cool her temper in No. 6, until
the citizen governor gives further orders.

"Take her away!" he shouted more loudly, banging a grimy fist down on
the table before him, as Marguerite still struggled on with the blind
madness of despair. "Pardi! can none of you rid us of that turbulent
baggage?"

The crowd behind were pushing forward: the guard within the tent were
jeering at those who were striving to drag Marguerite away: these latter
were cursing loudly and volubly, until one of them, tired out, furious
and brutal, raised his heavy fist and with an obscene oath brought it
crashing down upon the unfortunate woman's head.

Perhaps, though it was the work of a savage and cruel creature, the blow
proved more merciful than it had been intended: it had caught Marguerite
full between the eyes; her aching senses, wearied a