you? In that case learn to whom you are speaking, and change your
manners."

"Really!" I said with a grin, "but let my lips meet yours, and you shall
see if I am not as nicely mannered as those uncles of mine."

Her lips grew white. Her agony was manifest in every gesture. I
shuddered myself, and was in a state of great perplexity.

This woman was beautiful as the day. I do not believe that there has
ever lived a woman as lovely as she. And this was the first trial of her
life.

She was my young cousin, Edmée de Mauprat, daughter of M. Hubert de
Mauprat, the chevalier. She was of my age, for we were both seventeen,
and I ought to have protected her against the world at the peril of my
life.

"I swear by Christ," she said, taking my hands in hers, "that I am
Edmée, your cousin, your prisoner--yes, and your friend, for I have
always felt an interest in you."

Her words were cut short by the report of a gun outside; more shots were
heard and the alarm trumpet sounded.

I heard my Uncle Lawrence shouting violently at the door. "Where is that
coward? Where is that wretched boy? Bernard, the mounted police are
attacking us, and you are amusing yourself by making love while our
throats are being cut. Come and help us, Bernard."