has," she cried aloud in an agony of soul, "then no wonder--no
wonder, indeed, that he has cast me from his life as a criminal--as a
woman to be avoided as the plague--that he has said good-bye to me for
ever!"

Her lips trembled, and the corners of her pretty mouth hardened.

She turned again to watch the man's disappearing figure.

"I would go back," she cried in despair, "back to him, and beg his
forgiveness upon my knees. I love him--love him better than my life! Yet
to crave forgiveness would be to confess--to tell all I know--the whole
awful truth! And I can't do that--no, never! God help me! I--I--I--can't
do that!"

And bursting into a flood of hot tears, she stood rigid, her small hands
clenched, still watching him until he disappeared from her sight around
the bend of the road.

"No," she murmured in a low, hoarse voice, still speaking to herself,
"confession would mean death. Rather than admit the truth I would take
my own life. I would kill myself, yes, face death freely and willingly,
rather than he--the man I love so well--should learn Sir Hugh's
disgraceful secret."

CHAPTER XV

THREE GENTLEMEN FROM PARIS

GASTON DARBOUR'S comedy, _Le Pyree_, had been played to a large audience
assembled in one of the bigger rooms of the long whitewashed artillery
barracks outside Ronvaux, where General Molon had his official residence.

The humorous piece had been applauded to the echo--the audience
consisting for the most part of military officers in uniform and their
wives and daughters, with a sprinkling of the better-class civilians from
the various chateaux in the neighbourhood, together with two or three
aristocratic parties from Longuyon, Spincourt, and other places.

The honours of the evening had fallen to the young English girl who had
played the amusing part of the demure governess, Miss Smith--pronounced
by the others "Mees Smeeth." Enid was passionately fond of dramatic art,
and belonged to an amateur club in London. Among those present were the
author of the piece himself, a dark young man with smooth hair parted in
the centre and wearing an exaggerated black cravat.

When the curtain fell the audience rose to chatter and comment, and were
a long time before they dispersed. Paul Le Pontois waited for Enid, Sir
Hugh accompanying Blanche and little Ninette home in the hired brougham.
As the party had a long distance to go, some twelve kilometres, General
Molon had lent Le Pontois his moto