ss as a man,
force the barriers, and come to see an unfortunate wretch drawn to
pieces, using meanwhile all sorts of gesticulations perfectly
incomprehensible?"

The lady grew rather pale, although she tried to smile.

Ernanton went on. "Is it natural also that this lady, after this strange
announcement, fearful of being arrested, should fly as though she were a
thief, although she is in the service of Madame de Montpensier, a
powerful princess, although not much in favor at court?"

This time the lady smiled again, but ironically.

"You are not clear-sighted, monsieur, in spite of your pretension to be
an observer: for, with a little sense, all that seems obscure to you
would have been explained. Was it not very natural that Madame de
Montpensier should be interested in the fate of M. de Salcede, in what
he might be tempted to say, what true or false revelations he might
utter to compromise the house of Lorraine? And if that was natural,
monsieur, was it not also so, that this princess should send some one,
some safe, intimate friend, to be present at the execution, and bring
her all the details? Well, monsieur, this person was I. Now, do you
think I could go in my woman's dress? Do you think I could remain
indifferent to what was going on?"

"You are right, madame; and now I admire as much your logic and talent
as I did before your beauty."

"Thank you, monsieur. And now that we know each other, and that
everything is explained, give me the letter, since it does exist."

"Impossible, madame."

The unknown seemed trying not to grow angry. "Impossible?" repeated she.

"Yes, impossible; for I swore to M. de Mayenne to deliver it only to the
duchesse herself."

"Say, rather," cried the lady, giving way to her irritation, "that you
have no letter; that, in spite of your pretended scruples, it was a mere
pretext for getting in here; that you wished to see me again, and that
was all. Well, monsieur, you are satisfied; not only you have effected
your entrance, but you have seen me, and have told me you adore me."

"In that, as in all the rest, I have told you truth, madame."

"Well, so be it, you adore me; you wished to see me, and you have seen
me. I have procured you a pleasure in return for a service. We are
quits. Adieu!"

"I will obey you, madame; since you send me away, I will go."

"Yes," cried she, now really angry, "but if you know me, I do not know
you. You have too much advantage over me. Ah! you t