hours will reveal to your ladyship: and believe me
that I am actuated by motives of pure friendship towards you in this
my effort to mitigate the unpleasantness of such news as you might hear
to-morrow perhaps, by giving you due warning of what its nature might
be."

She turned great questioning eyes upon him, and in their expression she
tried to put all the contempt which she felt, all the bitterness, all
the defiance and the pride.

He quietly shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah! I fear me," he said, "that your ladyship, as usual doth me grievous
wrong. It is but natural that you should misjudge me, yet believe me..."

"A truce on this foolery, M. Chauvelin," she broke in, with sudden
impatient vehemence, "pray leave your protestations of friendship and
courtesy alone, there is no one here to hear them. I pray you proceed
with what you have to say."

"Ah!" It was a sigh of satisfaction on the part of Chauvelin. Her
anger and impatience even at this early stage of the interview proved
sufficiently that her icy restraint was only on the surface.

And Chauvelin always knew how to deal with vehemence. He loved to play
with the emotions of a passionate fellow-creature: it was only the
imperturbably calm of a certain enemy of his that was wont to shake his
own impenetrable armour of reserve.

"As your ladyship desires," he said, with a slight and ironical bow of
the head. "But before proceeding according to your wish, I am compelled
to ask your ladyship just one question."

"And that is?"

"Have you reflected what your present position means to that inimitable
prince of dandies, Sir Percy Blakeney?"

"Is it necessary for your present purpose, Monsieur, that you should
mention my husband's name at all?" she asked.

"It is indispensable, fair lady," he replied suavely, "for is not the
fate of your husband so closely intertwined with yours, that his actions
will inevitably be largely influenced by your own."

Marguerite gave a start of surprise, and as Chauvelin had paused she
tried to read what hidden meaning lay behind these last words of his.
Was it his intention then to propose some bargain, one of those terrible
"either-or's" of which he seemed to possess the malignant secret? Oh!
if that was so, if indeed he had sent for her in order to suggest one of
those terrible alternatives of his, then--be it what it may, be it the
wildest conception which the insane brain of a fiend could invent, she
would accept it, so lo