by your disappearance."

"Oh, surely," she answered with earnest simplicity, while the
tears sprang to her eyes. Her innocence--she had not the germ of
a suspicion--made me grind my teeth with wrath. Oh, the base
wretch! The miserable rascal! What did the women see, I
wondered--what had we all seen in this man, this Pavannes, that
won for him our hearts, when he had only a stone to give in
return?

I drew Croisette and Marie aside, apparently to consider how we
might force the door. "What is the meaning of this?" I said
softly, glancing at the unfortunate lady. "What do you think,
Croisette?"

I knew well what the answer would be.

"Think!" he cried with fiery impatience. "What can any one
think except that that villain Pavannes has himself planned his
wife's abduction? Of course it is so! His wife out of the way
he is free to follow up his intrigues at Caylus. He may then
marry Kit or--Curse him!"

"No," I said sternly, "cursing is no good. We must do something
more. And yet--we have promised Kit, you see, that we would save
him--we must keep our word. We must save him from Bezers at
least."

Marie groaned.