’Listen!  I am sure he lives!  What! would they injure one whom my father loved?  I heard my father say he would not have him hurt.  Depend upon it, he is safe on his way to England.’

Eustacie gave a short but frightful hysterical laugh, and pointed to Veronique.  ‘She saw it,’ she said; ‘ask her.’

‘Saw what?’ said Diane, turning fiercely on Veronique.  ’What vile deceit have you half killed your lady with?’

‘Alas!  Mademoiselle, I did but tell her what I had seen,’ sighed Veronique, trembling.

‘Tell me!’ said Diane, passionately.

‘Yes, everything,’ said Eustacie, sitting up.

‘Ah!  Mademoiselle, it will make you ill again.’

’I WILL be ill—­I WILL die!  Heaven’s slaying is better than man’s.  Tell her how you saw Narcisse.’

‘False girl!’ burst out Diane.

‘No, no,’ cried Veronique.  ’Oh, pardon me, Mademoiselle, I could not help it.’

In spite of her reluctance, she was forced to tell that she had found herself locked out of her mistress’s room, and after losing much time in searching for the CONCIERGE, learnt that the ladies were locked up by order of the Queen-mother, and was strongly advised not to be running about the passages.  After a time, however, while sitting with the CONCIERGE’S wife, she heard such frightful whispers from men with white badges, who were admitted one by one by the porter, and all led silently to a small lower room, that she resolved on seeking out the Baron’s servant, and sending him to warn his master, while she would take up her station at her lady’s door.  She found Osbert, and with him was ascending a narrow spiral leading from the offices—­she, unfortunately, the foremost.  As she came to the top, a scuffle was going on—­four men had thrown themselves upon one, and a torch distinctly showed her the younger Chevalier holding a pistol to the cheek of the fallen man, and she heard the worlds, ’Le baiser d’Eustacie!  Jet e barbouillerai ce chien de visage,’ and at the same moment the pistol was discharged.  She sprang back, oversetting, as she believed, Osbert, and fled shrieking to the room of the CONCIERGE, who shut her in till morning.

‘And how—­how,’ stammered Diane, ’should you know it was the Baron?’

Eustacie, with a death-like look, showed for a moment what even in her swoon she had held clenched to her bosom, the velvet cap soaked with blood.

‘Besides,’ added Veronique, resolved to defend her assertion, ’whom else would the words suit?  Besides, are not all the heretic gentlemen dead?  Why, as I sat there in the porter’s room, I heard M. d’O call each one of them by name, one after the other, into the court, and there the white-sleeves cut them down or pistolled them like sheep for the slaughter.  They lie all out there on the terrace like so many carcases at market ready for winter salting.’

‘All slain?’ said Eustacie, dreamily.