'They have not!' I whispered. 'All is well, Mademoiselle.
Pray, pray calm yourself. Sit down and meet them as if nothing
were the matter. And your sister! Madame, Madame,' I cried,
almost harshly, 'compose yourself. Remember that you have a part
to play.'
My appeal did something. Madame stifled her sobs. Mademoiselle
drew a deep breath and sat down; and though she was still pale
and still trembled, the worst was past.
And only just in time. The door flew open with a crash. The
Captain stumbled into the room, swearing afresh.
'SACRE NOM DU DIABLE!' he cried, his face crimson with rage.
'What fool placed these things here? My boots? My--'
His jaw fell. He stopped on the word, stricken silent by the new
aspect of the room, by the sight of the little party at the
table, by all the changes I had worked.
'SAINT SIEGE!' he muttered. 'What is this?' The Lieutenant's
grizzled face peering over his shoulder completed the picture.
'You are rather late, M. le Capitaine,' I said cheerfully.
'Madame's hour is eleven. But, come here are your seats waiting
for you.
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