om his due. It meant all that, as soon as we grasped it in
the least.

"Madame," said Croisette gravely, after a pause so prolonged that her
smile faded pitifully from her face, scared by our strange looks.
"Your husband has been some time away from you? He only returned, I
think, a week or two ago?"

"That is so," she answered, naively, and our last hope vanished. "But
what of that? He was back with me again, and only yesterday--only
yesterday!" she continued, clasping her hands, "we were so happy."

"And now, madame?"

She looked at me, not comprehending.

"I mean," I hastened to explain, "we do not understand how you come to
be here. And a prisoner." I was really thinking that her story might
throw some light upon ours.

"I do not know, myself," she said. "Yesterday, in the afternoon, I
paid a visit to the Abbess of the Ursulines."

"Pardon me," Croisette interposed quickly, "but are you not of the new
faith? A Huguenot?"

"Oh, yes," she answered eagerly. "But the Abbess is a very dear friend
of mine, and no bigot. Oh, nothing of that kind, I assure you. When I
am in Paris I visit her once a week. Yesterday, when I left her, she
begged me to call here and deliver a message."

"Then," I said, "you know this house?"

"Very well, indeed," she replied. "It is the sign of the 'Hand and
Glove,' one door out of the Rue Platriere. I have been in Master
Mirepoix's shop more than once before. I came here yesterday to
deliver the message, leaving my maid in the street, and I was asked to
come up stairs, and still up until I reached this room. Asked to wait
a moment, I began to think it strange that I should be brought to so
wretched a place, when I had merely a message for Mirepoix's ear about
some gauntlets. I tried the door; I found it locked. Then I was
terrified, and made a noise."

We all nodded. We were busy building up theories--or it might be one
and the same theory--to explain this. "Yes," I said, eagerly.

"Mirepoix came to me then. 'What does this mean?' I demanded. He
looked ashamed of himself, but he barred my way. 'Only this,' he said
at last, 'that your ladyship must remain here a few hours--two days at
most. No harm whatever is intended to you. My wife will wait upon you,
and when you leave us, all shall be explained.' He would say no more,
and it was in vain I asked him if he did not take me for some one else;
if he thought I was mad. To all he answered, No. And when I dar