.

Marguerite having realized her mistake, ashamed of having betrayed
her feelings even for a moment, threw back her proud head and gave her
exultant foe a look of defiance and of scorn. He responded with one of
pity, not altogether unmixed with deference. There was something almost
unearthly and sublime in this beautiful woman's agonizing despair.

He lowered his head and made her a deep obeisance, lest she should see
the satisfaction and triumph which shone through his pity.

As usual Sir Percy remained quite imperturbable, and now it was he, who,
with characteristic impudence, touched the hand-bell on the table:

"Excuse this intrusion, Monsieur," he said lightly, "her ladyship is
overfatigued and would be best in her room."

Marguerite threw him a grateful look. After all she was only a woman
and was afraid of breaking down. In her mind there was no issue to the
present deadlock save in death. For this she was prepared and had but
one great hope that she could lie in her husband's arms just once again
before she died. Now, since she could not speak to him, scarcely dared
to look into the loved face, she was quite ready to go.

In answer to the bell, the soldier had entered.

"If Lady Blakeney desires to go..." said Chauvelin.

She nodded and Chauvelin gave the necessary orders: two soldiers stood
at attention ready to escort Marguerite back to her prison cell. As she
went towards the door she came to within a couple of steps from where
her husband was standing, bowing to her as she passed. She stretched
out an icy cold hand towards him, and he, in the most approved London
fashion, with the courtly grace of a perfect English gentleman, took
the little hand in his and stooping very low kissed the delicate
finger-tips.

Then only did she notice that the strong, nervy hand which held hers
trembled perceptibly, and that his lips--which for an instant rested on
her fingers--were burning hot.

Chapter XXVII: The Decision

Once more the two men were alone.

As far as Chauvelin was concerned he felt that everything was not yet
settled, and until a moment ago he had been in doubt as to whether Sir
Percy would accept the infamous conditions which had been put before
him, or allow his pride and temper to get the better of him and throw
the deadly insults back into his adversary's teeth.

But now a new secret had been revealed to the astute diplomatist. A
name, softly murmured by a broken-hearted woman,