ause of my own ruin. Three days more, and I had been a
major-general. I had nearly the sum in _actions_ ready to pay over at
the right place. By our Lady of Grace, I am minded to run you through
myself, for a greater villain never set foot in France!"

"Monsieur, I am about to leave France," said Law.

"Oh, you would leave us? You would run away?"

"As you like. But most of all, I am now very weary. I would not remain
here longer talking. Henri, where are you?"

The faithful Swiss, who had remained close to his employer all the time,
and who had been not far from his side during the scenes just concluded,
was in a moment at his side. He hardly reached his master too soon, for
as he passed his arm about him, the head of Law sank wearily forward. He
might, perhaps, have sunk to the ground had he lacked a supporting arm.

At this moment there came again the sound of hoofs upon the pavement.
There was the rush of a mounted outrider, and hard after him sped the
horses of a carriage, whose driver pulled up close at the curb and
scarce clear of the little group gathered there. The door of the coach
was opened, and at it appeared the figure of a woman, who quickly
descended from the step.

"What is it?" she cried. "Is not this the residence of Monsieur Law?"
The officer saluted, and the few loiterers gave back and made room, as
she stepped fully into the street and advanced with decision towards
those whom she saw.

"Madam," replied the Swiss, "this is the residence of Monsieur L'as, and
this is Monsieur L'as himself. I fear he is taken suddenly ill."

The lady stepped quickly to his side. As she did so, Law, as one not
fully hearing, half raised his head. He looked full into her face, and
releasing himself from the arms of his servant, stood thus, staring
directly at the visitor, his face haggard, his fixed eyes bearing no
sign of actual recognition.

"Catharine! Catharine!" he exclaimed. "Oh God, how cruel of you too to
mock me! Catharine!"

The unspeakable yearning of the cry went to the heart of her who heard
it. She put out a hand and laid it on his forehead. The Swiss motioned
toward the house. And even as the officer wheeled his troop to depart,
these two again ascended the steps, half carrying between them a
stumbling man, who but repeated mumblingly to himself the same words:

"Mockery! Mockery!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE QUALITY OF MERCY

Within the great house there was silence, for the vistas of th