"
"Then why did he hide his knowledge?" the young man retorted sharply.
"Why?" she answered. "To induce me to waive the other condition in the
hope of saving you. Oh!" she continued in a tone of bitter raillery, "he
has the cunning of hell, of the priests! You are no match for him,
Monsieur. Nor I; nor any of us. And"--with a gesture of despair--"he
will be my master! He will break me to his will and to his hand! I
shall be his! His, body and soul, body and soul!" she continued
drearily, as she sank into a chair and, rocking herself to and fro,
covered her face. "I shall be his! His till I die!"
The man's eyes burned, and the pulse in his temples beat wildly.
"But you shall not!" he exclaimed. "I may be no match for him in
cunning, you say well. But I can kill him. And I will!" He paced up
and down. "I will!"
"You should have done it when he was here," she answered, half in scorn,
half in earnest.
"It is not too late," he cried; and then he stopped, silenced by the
opening door. It was Javette who entered. They looked at her, and
before she spoke were on their feet. Her face, white and eager, marking
something besides fear, announced that she brought news. She closed the
door behind her, and in a moment it was told.
"Monsieur can escape, if he is quick," she cried in a low tone; and they
saw that she trembled with excitement.
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