'No,' she said, straightening herself; 'I must go with you.'

'Better not.'

'I must go with you,' she repeated.

They passed together along the railed edge of the court of fountains
under the stars, skirted the gay and melodious garden behind the trees
in their huge wooden boxes, and so came to a second quadrangle, upon
whose highest story the windows of Tudor's flat gave. Descending a
stairway of forged iron to the balcony, they crept forward in silence to
the window of Tudor's drawing-room, and, still side by side, gazed, as
Shawn had done, through the fine lacework of the blind into the splendid
apartment.

The window was almost at a corner of the room, near a door; but Hugo had
a perfect view of the two men within, and one was as certainly Louis
Ravengar as the other was Francis Tudor. They were gesticulating
violently and angrily, and a heavy, ornate Empire chair had already been
overturned. The dispute seemed to be interminable; each moment heralded
a fight, but it is the watched pot that never boils. Suddenly Hugo
became aware that Camilla was no longer at his elbow, and the next
instant, to his extreme amazement, he saw her glide into the room. She
had removed her hat and cloak, and stood revealed in all her beauty.
The two men did not perceive her. She softly opened the window, and the
confused murmur of voices reached Hugo's ear.

'Give me the revolver,' Camilla whispered.