Madame
de Mussidan's drawing-room with George de Croisenois. She had been
impressed by his ardent passion, and had listened with pleasure to his
loving entreaties.

"I yield," said she. "Come to-morrow night, at half-past ten, to the
little door in the garden wall; it will only be kept closed by a stone
being placed against it inside; push it, and it will open; and when
you have entered the garden, acquaint me with your presence by clapping
yours hands gently once or twice."

Diana had, from a secure hiding-place, overheard these words, and
feeling certain that the Duchess would repent her rash promise, she kept
close to her side until George's departure, to give her no chance of
retracting her promise. The next day she was constantly with her victim,
and made an excuse for dining with her, so as not to quit her until the
hour for the meeting had almost arrived.

It was not until she was left alone that the Duchess saw the full extent
of her folly and rashness. She was terrified at the promise that she had
given in a weak moment, and would have given worlds had she been able to
retract.

There was yet, however, one means of safety left her--she could
hurry downstairs and secure the garden gate. She started to her
feet, determined to execute her project; but she was too late for the
appointed signal was heard through the chill gloom of the night. Unhappy
woman! The light sound of George de Croisenois' palms striking one upon
the other resounded in her ears like the dismal tolling of the funereal
bell. She stooped to light a candle at the fire, but her hand trembled
so that she could scarcely effect her object. She felt sure that George
was still in the garden, though she had made no answer to his signal.
She had never thought that he would have had the audacity to open a door
that led into the house from the garden, but this is what he had done.
In the most innocent manner imaginable, and so that her listener in
no way suspected the special reason that she had for making this
communication, Diana de Mussidan had informed George de Croisenois that
upon this night all the domestics of the Champdoce household would be
attending the coachman's wedding, and that consequently the mansion
would be deserted. George knew also that the Duke was away at his
training establishment, and he therefore opened the door, and walked
boldly up the main staircase, so that when the Duchess, with the lighted
candle in her hand, came to th