"and he a man such as any girl in France might be proud
to wed. Well, well, you are not to be constrained, you say." And
the Marquise's laugh was menacing and unpleasant. "Be not so sure,
mademoiselle. Be not so sure of that. It may well betide that you shall
come to beg upon your knees for this alliance with a man whom you tell
me that you hate. Be not so sure you cannot be constrained."

Their eyes met; both women were white to the lips, but it was curbed
passion in the one, and deadly fear in the other; for what the Dowager's
words left unsaid her eyes most eloquently conveyed. The girl shrank
back, her hands clenched, her lip caught in her teeth.

"There is a God in heaven, madame," she reminded the Marquise.

"Aye--in heaven," laughed the Marquise, turning to depart. She paused by
the door, which the Italian had sprung forward to open for her.

"Marius shall take the air with you in the morning if it is fine. Ponder
meanwhile what I have said."

"Does this man remain here, madame?" inquired the girl, vainly seeking
to render her voice steady.

"In the outer anteroom is his place: but as the key of this room is on
his side of the door, he may enter here when he so pleases, or when he
thinks that he has reason to. If the sight of him displeases you, you
may lock yourself from it in your own chamber yonder."

The same she said in Italian to the man, who bowed impassively,
and followed the Dowager into the outer room, closing the door upon
mademoiselle. It was a chamber almost bare of furniture, save for a
table and chair which had been placed there, so that the gaoler might
take his meals.

The man followed the Marquise across the bare floor, their steps
resounding as they went, and he held the outer door for her.

Without another word she left him, and where he stood he could hear her
steps as she tripped down the winding staircase of stone. At last the
door of the courtyard closed with a bang, and the grating of a key
announced to the mercenary that he and his charge were both imprisoned
in that tower of the Chateau de Condillac.

Left alone in the anteroom, mademoiselle crossed to the window and
dropped limply into a chair. Her face was still very white, her heart
beating tumultuously, for the horrid threat that had been conveyed in
the Dowager's words had brought her her first thrill of real fear since
the beginning of this wooing-by-force three months ago, a wooing which
had become more insistent and l