Sharon and seek her beloved in the city and throw herself at his
feet, making him a royal gift of all he claimed of her.

She little knew her own wilful heart. She had seen the world bow to
every caprice of hers, but she never had one principle to guide her,
except her own pleasure. She was now like a goddess of earth, fallen in
an effort to reconcile impossibilities in human hearts, and became the
sport of the powers of wickedness.

She lay upon the floor senseless, her hands in a violent clasp. Her
glorious hair, torn and disordered, lay over her like the royal robe of
a queen stricken from her throne and lying dead upon the floor of her
palace.

It was long after midnight, in the cold hours of the morning, when
she woke from her swoon. She raised herself feebly upon her elbow,
and looked dazedly up at the cold, unfeeling stars that go on shining
through the ages, making no sign of sympathy with human griefs. Perseus
had risen to his meridian, and Algol, her natal star, alternately
darkened and brightened as if it were the scene of some fierce conflict
of the powers of light and darkness, like that going on in her own soul.

Her face was stained with hard clots of blood as she rose, cramped and
chilled to the bone. The night air had blown coldly upon her through
the open lattice; but she would not summon her maid to her assistance.
Without undressing she threw herself upon a couch, and utterly worn out
by the agitation she had undergone, slept far into the day.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE HURRIED QUESTION OF DESPAIR.

Le Gardeur plunged headlong down the silent street, neither knowing nor
caring whither. Half mad with grief, half with resentment, he vented
curses upon himself, upon Angelique, upon the world, and looked upon
Providence itself as in league with the evil powers to thwart his
happiness,--not seeing that his happiness in the love of a woman like
Angelique was a house built on sand, which the first storm of life would
sweep away.

"Holla! Le Gardeur de Repentigny! Is that you?" exclaimed a voice in the
night. "What lucky wind blows you out at this hour?" Le Gardeur stopped
and recognized the Chevalier de Pean. "Where are you going in such a
desperate hurry?"

"To the devil!" replied Le Gardeur, withdrawing his hand from De Pean's,
who had seized it with an amazing show of friendship. "It is the only
road left open to me, and I am going to march down it like a garde du
corps of Satan! Do not hold me, D