o the right of them, alone, except for
her burly guards, kneeling on the rock floor, with face hidden in her
hands, was Eloise. I half rose to my feet, my whole body pulsating
with agony. What was to be the ending? What was that mad woman's
purpose? Could she control the fierce blood-lust of those savage
fanatics? If she cared to do so, would she dare test her power in so
desperate a game? If one must be sacrificed which would she spare, De
Noyan or his hapless wife? Looking at her, cold, cynical, lustful, her
eyes still turned on his face, I felt no doubt. Let the foul fiend
choose! by all the gods, Cairnes should brain her where she stood, and,
Heaven helping me to do the deed, the one I loved should never die by
torture!

She took her own time for decision, indifferently ignoring the howls of
rage, her thin lips curling in contemptuous smile, her glance yet upon
the startled Chevalier. Laying her hand upon his sleeve, she said in
French:

"You hear the wolves howl, Monsieur? They are mad for French blood."

He shrugged his shoulders, staring into her expressionless face, then
down upon the surging mob below.

"Saint Giles! give them sufficient of something else," he replied,
striving to pretend indifference, yet with a falter in his voice. "You
pledged us safety if we would accompany you here."

"I pledged _you_ safety, Monsieur," she corrected haughtily. "I gave
no word of promise as to others. Yet circumstances have changed. I
supposed then we had enough of victims to appease even such blood-lust
as yelps yonder."

"You mean the preacher and Benteen?"

"Ay; they would suffice, with plenty of slaves for good measure. But
now, only two remain from which to choose. _Sacre_! there are times
when those dogs break away even from my control, and mock me. I know
not now whether one alone will glut their desire, yet I am of a mind to
try the experiment before the wolves drag me to hell also. Heard you
ever such yelping of wild beasts?"

"You would sacrifice me?" his face whitening from horror. "You would
give me to the knife and fire? _Mon Dieu_! is this the end of all your
vows?"

She smiled, a cold, cruel smile, her eyes burning.

"I did not say you," tauntingly. "There is another here."

He drew away from her grasp, lips ashen, eyes unbelieving.

"Eloise! _Mon Dieu_! not Eloise?"

"And if not Eloise, what then, Monsieur?" The low voice hardened,
becoming oddly metallic. "The wolve