here; I think you had better stay where you are, Madame, until
morning! And risk Mirepoix!"

"Oh, no! no!" Madame cried vehemently.

"Oh, yes! yes!" he replied. "What do you say, Coadjutor? Do
you not think so?"

The priest looked down sullenly. His voice shook as he murmured
in answer, "Madame will please herself. She has a character, M.
le Vidame. But if she prefer to stay here--well!"

"Oh, she has a character, has she?" rejoined the giant, his eyes
twinkling with evil mirth, "and she should go home with you, and
my old friend Madame d'O, to save it! That is it, is it? No,
no," he continued when he had had his silent laugh out, "Madame
de Pavannes will do very well here--very well here until morning.
We have work to do. Come. Let us go and do it."

"Do you mean it?" said the priest, starting and looking up with
a subtle challenge--almost a threat--in his tone.

"Yes, I do."

Their eyes met: and seeing their looks, I chuckled, nudging
Croisette. No fear of their discovering us now. I recalled the
old proverb which says that when thieves fall out, honest men
come by their own, and speculated on the chance of the priest
freeing us once for all from M. de Bezers.