m. She recalled the dark moment when Death, intrusive,
imminent, lurked at the tent door, and in its shadow she emptied out her
soul in that one kiss of fealty and farewell.

That kiss--there came to her again, suddenly, Madame Degardy's cry of
warning: "Don't get his breath--it's death, idiot!"

That was it: the black fever was in her veins! That one kiss had sealed
her own doom. She knew it now.

He had given her life by giving her love. Well, he should give her death
too--her lord of fife and death. She was of the chosen few who could
drink the cup of light and the cup of darkness with equally regnant
soul.

But it might lay her low in the very hour of Valmond's trouble. She
must conquer it--how? To whom could she turn for succour? There was but
one,--yet she could not seek Madame Degardy, for the old woman would
drive her to her bed, and keep her there. There was only this to do:
to possess herself of those wonderful herbs which had been given her
Napoleon in his hour of peril.

Dragging herself wearily to the little but by the river, she knocked,
and waited. All was still, and, opening the door, she entered. Striking
a match, she found a candle, lighted it, and then began her search.
Under an old pan on a shelf she found both herbs and powder. She
snatched up a handful of the herbs, and kissed them with joyful heart.
Saved--she was saved! Ah, thank the Blessed Virgin! She would thank her
for ever!

A horrible sinking sensation seized her. Turning in dismay, she saw the
face of Parpon at the window. With a blind instinct for protection, she
staggered towards the door, and fell, her fingers still clasping the
precious herbs.

As Parpon hastily entered, Madame Degardy hobbled out of the shadow of
the trees, and furtively watched the hut. When a light appeared, she
crept to the door, opened it stealthily upon the intruders of her home,
and stepped inside.

Parpon was kneeling by Elise, lifting up her head, and looking at her in
horrified distress.

With a shrill cry the old woman came forward and dropped on her knees
at the other side of Elise. Her hand, fumbling anxiously over the girl's
breast, met the hard and warty palm of the dwarf. She stopped suddenly,
raised the sputtering candle, and peered into his eyes with a vague,
wavering intensity. For minutes they knelt there, the silence clothing
them about, the body of the unconscious girl between them. A lost memory
was feeling blindly its way home again.