Count Hannibal

Tignonville, delighted with the stratagem which the meeting with Biron

had suggested, could see no flaw in it. She could, and though she heard

him to the end, no second glow of hope softened the lines of her

features. With a gesture full of dignity, which took in not only Madame

Carlat and the waiting-woman who stood at the door, but the absent

servants-"And what of these?" she said. "What of these? You forget them,

Monsieur. You do not think, you cannot have thought, that I would

abandon them? That I would leave them to such mercy as he, defeated,

might extend to them? No, you forgot them."

He did not know what to answer, for the jealous eyes of the frightened

waiting-woman, fierce with the fierceness of a hunted animal, were on

him. The Carlat and she had heard, could hear. At last-"Better one than none!" he muttered, in a voice so low that if the

servants caught his meaning it was but indistinctly. "I have to think of

you."

"And I of them," she answered firmly. "Nor is that all. Were they not

here, it could not be. My word is passed--though a moment ago, Monsieur,

in the joy of seeing you I forgot it. And how," she continued, "if I

keep not my word, can I expect him to keep his? Or how, if I am ready to

break the bond, on this happening which I never expected, can I hold him

to conditions which he loves as little--as little as I love him?"

Her voice dropped piteously on the last words; her eyes, craving her

lover's pardon, sought his. But rage, not pity or admiration, was the

feeling roused in Tignonville's breast. He stood staring at her, struck

dumb by folly so immense. At last-"You cannot mean this," he blurted out. "You cannot mean, Mademoiselle,

that you intend to stand on that! To keep a promise wrung from you by

force, by treachery, in the midst of such horrors as he and his have

brought upon us! It is inconceivable!"

She shook her head. "I promised," she said.

"You were forced to it."

"But the promise saved our lives."

"From murderers! From assassins!" he protested.

She shook her head. "I cannot go back," she said firmly; "I cannot."

"Then you are willing to marry him," he cried in ignoble anger. "That is

it! Nay, you must wish to marry him! For, as for his conditions,

Mademoiselle," the young man continued, with an insulting laugh, "you

cannot think seriously of them. He keep conditions and you in his

power! He, Count Hannibal! But for the matter of that, and were he in

the mind to keep them, what are they? There are plenty of ministers. I

left one only this morning. I could lay my hand on one in five minutes.

He has only to find one, therefore--and to find me!"