am still trembling with horror and fear. I cannot get it
out of my mind; I never shall. Why, what tempted me? How could I
bring myself to do it?

"But for these two women--they are fiends, furies--it would never
have been necessary. Now one of them has escaped, and the other--
she is here, so cold-blooded, so self-possessed and quiet--who
would have thought it of her? That she, a lady of rank and high
breeding, gentle, delicate, tender-hearted. Tender? the fiend! Oh,
shall I ever forget her?

"And now she has me in her power! But have I not her also? We are
in the same boat--we must sink or swim, together. We are equally
bound, I to her, she to me. What are we to do? How shall we meet
inquiry? _Santissima Donna!_ why did I not risk it, and climb
out like the maid? It was terrible for the moment, but the worst
would have been over, and now--"

There was yet more, scribbled in the same faltering, agitated
handwriting, and from the context the entries had been made in the
waiting-room of the railroad station.

"I must attract her attention. She will not look my way. I want
her to understand that I have something special to say to her, and
that, as we are forbidden to speak, I am writing it herein--that
she must contrive to take the book from me and read unobserved.

"_ Cos petto!_ she is stupid! Has fear dazed her entirely? No
matter, I will set it all down."

Now followed what the police deemed such damaging evidence.

"Countess. Remember. Silence--absolute silence. Not a word as to
who I am, or what is common knowledge to us both. It is done. That
cannot be undone. Be brave, resolute; admit nothing. Stick to it
that you know nothing, heard nothing. Deny that you knew _him_,
or me. Swear you slept soundly the night through, make some
excuse, say you were drugged, anything, only be on your guard, and
say nothing about me. I warn you. Leave me alone. Or--but your
interests are my interests; we must stand or fall together.
Afterwards I will meet you--I _must_ meet you somewhere. If we
miss at the station front, write to me Poste Restante, Grand
Hotel, and give me an address. This is imperative. Once more,
silence and discretion."

This ended the writing in the note-book, and the whole perusal
occupied Sir Charles from fifteen to twenty minutes, during which
the French officials watched his face closely, and his friend
Colonel Papillon anxiously.

But the General's mask was impenetrable, and at the end of his
re