ould be mine;
while the longer I lay in the village, the greater suspicion I should
incur, and the closer would be the watch kept upon me.

In such a position some men might have given up the attempt in despair,
and saved themselves across the border. But I have always valued myself
on my fidelity, and I did not shrink. If not to-day, to-morrow; if
not this time, next time. The dice do not always turn up aces. Bracing
myself, therefore, to the occasion, I crept, as soon as the house was
quiet, to the window, a small, square, open lattice, much cobwebbed, and
partly stuffed with hay. I looked out. The village seemed to be asleep.
The dark branches of trees hung a few feet away, and almost obscured
a grey, cloudy sky, through which a wet moon sailed drearily. Looking
downwards, I could at first see nothing; but as my eyes grew used to the
darkness--I had only just put out my rushlight--I made out the stable
door and the shadowy outlines of the lean-to roof.

I had hoped for this, for I could now keep watch, and learn at least
whether Cocheforet left before morning. If he did not, I should know
he was still here. If he did, I should be the better for seeing his
features, and learning, perhaps, other things that might be of use to me
in the future.

Making up my mind to the uncomfortable, I sat down on the floor by the
lattice, and began a vigil that might last, I knew, until morning. It
did last about an hour, at the end of which time I heard whispering
below, then footsteps; then, as some persons turned a corner, a voice
speaking aloud and carelessly. I could not catch the words or meaning,
but the voice was a gentleman's, and its bold accents and masterful
tone left me in no doubt that the speaker was M. de Cocheforet himself.
Hoping to learn more, I pressed my face nearer to the opening, and had
just made out through the gloom two figures--one that of a tall, slight
man, wearing a cloak, the other, I fancied, a woman's, in a sheeny white
dress--when a thundering rap on the door of my garret made me spring
back a yard from the lattice, and lie down hurriedly on my couch. The
summons was repeated.

'Well?' I cried, rising on my elbow, and cursing the untimely
interruption. I was burning with anxiety to see more. 'What is it? What
is the matter?'

The trap-door was lifted a foot or more. The landlord thrust up his
head.

'You called, did you not?' he said.

He held up a rushlight, which illumined half the room and