By an effort, painful to see, she
recovered her composure. She took up her fork, and ate a few
mouthfuls. Then she looked at me with a fierce under-look.
'I want to see Clon,' she whispered feverishly. The man who
waited on us had left the room.
'He knows?' I said.
She nodded, her beautiful face strangely disfigured. Her closed
teeth showed between her lips. Two red spots burned in her white
cheeks, and she breathed quickly. I felt, as I looked at her, a
sudden pain at my heart, and a shuddering fear, such as a man,
awaking to find himself falling over a precipice, might feel.
How these women loved the man!
For a moment I could not speak. When I found my voice it sounded
dry and husky.
'He is a safe confidant,' I muttered. 'He can neither read nor
write, Mademoiselle.'
'No, but--' and then her face became fixed. 'They are coming,'
she whispered. 'Hush!' She rose stiffly, and stood supporting
herself by the table. 'Have they--have they--found him?' she
muttered. The woman by her side wept on, unconscious of what was
impending.
I heard the Captain stumble far down the passage, and swear
loudly; and I touched Mademoiselle's hand.
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