ed. Here was the girl whom they had come to
arrest, who had sprung from the salon with so much activity of youth
across the stretch of grass, who had run so quickly and lightly across
the pavement into this very house, so that she should not be seen. And
now she was lying in her fine and delicate attire a captive, at the
mercy of the very people who were her accomplices.

Suddenly a scream rang out in the garden--a shrill, loud scream, close
beneath the windows. The old woman sprang to her feet. The girl on the
sofa raised her head. The old woman took a step towards the window, and
then she swiftly turned towards the door. She saw the men upon the
threshold. She uttered a bellow of rage. There is no other word to
describe the sound. It was not a human cry; it was the bellow of an
angry animal. She reached out her hand towards the flask, but before
she could grasp it Hanaud seized her. She burst into a torrent of foul
oaths. Hanaud flung her across to Lemerre's officer, who dragged her
from the room.

"Quick!" said Hanaud, pointing to the girl, who was now struggling
helplessly upon the sofa. "Mlle. Celie!"

Ricardo cut the stitches of the sacking. Hanaud unstrapped her hands
and feet. They helped her to sit up. She shook her hands in the air as
though they tortured her, and then, in a piteous, whimpering voice,
like a child's, she babbled incoherently and whispered prayers.
Suddenly the prayers ceased. She sat stiff, with eyes fixed and
staring. She was watching Lemerre, and she was watching him fascinated
with terror. He was holding in his hand the large, bright aluminium
flask. He poured a little of the contents very carefully on to a piece
of the sack; and then with an exclamation of anger he turned towards
Hanaud. But Hanaud was supporting Celia; and so, as Lemerre turned
abruptly towards him with the flask in his hand, he turned abruptly
towards Celia too. She wrenched herself from Hanaud's arms, she shrank
violently away. Her white face flushed scarlet and grew white again.
She screamed loudly, terribly; and after the scream she uttered a
strange, weak sigh, and so fell sideways in a swoon. Hanaud caught her
as she fell. A light broke over his face.

"Now I understand!" he cried. "Good God! That's horrible."

CHAPTER XIII

IN THE HOUSE AT GENEVA

It was well, Mr. Ricardo thought, that some one understood. For
himself, he frankly admitted that he did not. Indeed, in his view the
first principles of