e to the _citoyenne_ Marie
Verneuil and to obey the orders which she may give them at her
discretion.'

"A worthless hussy takes a noble name to soil it with such treachery,"
added Madame du Gua.

A movement of astonishment ran through the assembly.

"The fight is not even if the Republic employs such pretty women against
us," said the Baron du Guenic gaily.

"Especially women who have nothing to lose," said Madame du Gua.

"Nothing?" cried the Chevalier du Vissard. "Mademoiselle has a property
which probably brings her in a pretty good sum."

"The Republic must like a joke, to send strumpets for ambassadors," said
the Abbe Gudin.

"Unfortunately, Mademoiselle seeks the joys that kill," said Madame du
Gua, with a horrible expression of pleasure at the end she foresaw.

"Then why are you still living?" said her victim, rising to her feet,
after repairing the disorder of her clothes.

This bitter sarcasm excited a sort of respect for so brave a victim, and
silenced the assembly. Madame du Gua saw a satirical smile on the lips
of the men, which infuriated her, and paying no attention to the marquis
and Merle who were entering the room, she called to the Chouan who
followed them. "Pille-Miche!" she said, pointing to Mademoiselle de
Verneuil, "take her; she is my share of the booty, and I turn her over
to you--do what you like with her."

At these words the whole assembly shuddered, for the hideous heads of
Pille-Miche and Marche-a-Terre appeared behind the marquis, and the
punishment was seen in all its horror.

Francine was standing with clasped hands as though paralyzed.
Mademoiselle de Verneuil, who recovered her presence of mind before the
danger that threatened her, cast a look of contempt at the assembled
men, snatched the letter from Madame du Gua's hand, threw up her head
with a flashing eye, and darted towards the door where Merle's sword was
still leaning. There she came upon the marquis, cold and motionless as a
statue. Nothing pleaded for her on his fixed, firm features. Wounded
to the heart, life seemed odious to her. The man who had pledged her so
much love must have heard the odious jests that were cast upon her,
and stood there silently a witness of the infamy she had been made to
endure. She might, perhaps, have forgiven him his contempt, but she
could not forgive his having seen her in so humiliating a position, and
she flung him a look that was full of hatred, feeling in her heart the
bi