“Fourteen bailiffs are watching without.  He could not come within gunshot.  If they clap eyes on him, they will hustle him to jail, and his cutthroats shall not avail him a hair’s weight.  The impertinent swore he’d be here by nine, did he?”

“He said so; and ’tis a rash dog, sir.”

“It is just nine now.”

“Send out to see if they have taken him.”

“Gladly.”

The Beau beckoned an attendant, and whispered in his ear.

Many of the crowd had edged up to the two gentlemen with apparent carelessness, to overhear their conversation.  Those who did overhear repeated it in covert asides, and this circulating undertone, confirming a vague rumor that Beaucaire would attempt the entrance that night, lent a pleasurable color of excitement to the evening.  The French prince, the ambassador, and their suites were announced.  Polite as the assembly was, it was also curious, and there occurred a mannerly rush to see the newcomers.  Lady Mary, already pale, grew whiter as the throng closed round her; she looked up pathetically at the Duke, who lost no time in extricating her from the pressure.

“Wait here,” he said; “I will fetch you a glass of negus,” and disappeared.  He had not thought to bring a chair, and she, looking about with an increasing faintness and finding none, saw that she was standing by the door of a small side-room.  The crowd swerved back for the passage of the legate of France, and pressed upon her.  She opened the door, and went in.

The room was empty save for two gentlemen, who were quietly playing cards at a table.  They looked up as she entered.  They were M. Beaucaire and Mr. Molyneux.

She uttered a quick cry and leaned against the wall, her hand to her breast.  Beaucaire, though white and weak, had brought her a chair before Molyneux could stir.

“Mademoiselle—­”

“Do not touch me!” she said, with such frozen abhorrence in her voice that he stopped short.  “Mr. Molyneux, you seek strange company!”

“Madam,” replied Molyneux, bowing deeply, as much to Beaucaire as to herself, “I am honored by the presence of both of you.

“Oh, are you mad!” she exclaimed, contemptuously.

“This gentleman has exalted me with his confidence, madam,” he replied.

“Will you add your ruin to the scandal of this fellow’s presence here?  How he obtained entrance—­”

“Pardon, mademoiselle,” interrupted Beaucaire.  “Did I not say I should come?  M. Molyneux was so obliging as to answer for me to the fourteen frien’s of M. de Winterset and Meestaire Nash.”

“Do you not know,” she turned vehemently upon Molyneux, “that he will be removed the moment I leave this room?  Do you wish to be dragged out with him?  For your sake, sir, because I have always thought you a man of heart, I give you a chance to save yourself from disgrace—­and—­your companion from jail.  Let him slip out by some retired way, and you may give me your arm and we will enter the next room as if nothing had happened.  Come, sir—­”