one of the windows. Seeing that I was watching him, he rose and waved
his hand merrily.

'Now you know why he saved your life--since you say that he saved it,'
said she. 'It would suit his plans best that you should marry his
daughter, and so he wished you to live. But when once he understands
that that is impossible, why then, my poor Cousin Louis, his only way of
guarding against the return of the de Lavals must lie in ensuring that
there are none to return.'

It was those words of hers, coupled with that furtive yellow face still
lurking at the window, which made me realise the imminence of my danger.
No one in France had any reason to take an interest in me. If I were to
pass away there was no one who could make inquiry--I was absolutely in
his power. My memory told me what a ruthless and dangerous man it was
with whom I had to deal.

'But,' said I, 'he must have known that your affections were already
engaged.'

'He did,' she answered; 'it was that which made me most uneasy of all.
I was afraid for you and afraid for myself, but, most of all, I was
afraid for Lucien. No man can stand in the way of his plans.'

'Lucien! 'The name was like a lightning flash upon a dark night. I had
heard of the vagaries of a woman's love, but was it possible that this
spirited woman loved that poor creature whom I had seen grovelling last
night in a frenzy of fear? But now I remembered also where I had seen
the name Sibylle. It was upon the fly-leaf of his book. 'Lucien, from
Sibylle,' was the inscription. I recalled also that my uncle had said