“Do you wish,” said he, “to show all Bevron that you and I are Norbert’s accomplices?”

“What do you mean?” asked she.

“I mean that if the Duke does not die, we are lost.  When I say we, I mean myself, for you, as the daughter of a noble family, will be sure to escape scot free, and I shall be left to pay for all.”

“You said that the effect was immediate.”

“I did say so, and I thought so too.  Ah, if I had but reflected a little!  You will however see that I do not intend to give in without a fight.  I will defend myself by accusing you.  I am an honest man, and have been your dupe.  You have thought to make me a mere tool; your fine Norbert is a fool, but he will pay for his doings with his head all the same.”

At these gross insults Mademoiselle de Laurebourg rose to her feet and attempted to speak, but he cut her short.

“I can’t stop to pick and choose my words, for I feel at the present moment as if the axe of the guillotine were suspended over my head.  Now just oblige me by getting out of this, and never show your face here again.”

“As you like.  I will communicate with Champdoce.”

“You shall not,” exclaimed Daumon with a gesture of menace.  “You might as well go and ask how the Duke enjoyed the taste of the poison.”

His words, however, did not deter Diana, for any risk seemed preferable to her than the present state of suspense.

With a glance of contempt at the Counsellor she left the cottage, determined to act as she thought fit.

After Diana’s departure, Daumon felt too that he must learn how matters were going on, and going over to the Widow Rouleau’s, he despatched her daughter Francoise to the Chateau de Champdoce, under the pretext that he wanted some money which he had lent to one of the Duke’s servants.  He had instructed the girl so cunningly that she had no suspicion of the real end and object of her mission, and set out on it with the most implicit confidence.  He had not long to wait for her return, for in about half an hour his messenger returned.

“Well,” said he anxiously, “has the scamp sent my money?”

“No, sir, I am sorry to say that I could not even get to speak to him.”

“How was that?  Was he not at Champdoce?”

“I cannot even tell you that.  Ever since the Duke has been ill, the great gates of the Chateau have been bolted, for it seems that the poor old gentleman is at his last gasp.”

“Did you not hear what was the matter with him?”

“No, sir, the little I have told you I got from a stable boy, who spoke to me through a grating in the gate, but before he could say ten words Jean came up and sent him off.”

“Do you mean Jean, the Duke’s confidential man?”

“Just so,” returned the girl, “and very angry he was.  He abused the lad and told him to be off to the stables, and then asked, ’Well, my girl, and pray what do you want?’ I told him that I had come with a message to the man Mechenit; but before I could say any more he broke in with, ‘Well, he isn’t here, you can call again in a month.’”