It made my blood run wildly. But Diane did not come back.
Strange! And Bezers too was unmoved. He stood between the poor
woman and the door, and by a gesture bid Mirepoix and the priest
pass out before him. "Madame," he said--and his voice, stern and
hard as ever, expressed no jot of compassion for her, rather such
an impatient contempt as a puling child might elicit--"you are
safe here. And here you will stop! Weep if you please," he
added cynically, "you will have fewer tears to shed to-morrow."

His last words--they certainly were odd ones--arrested her
attention. She checked her sobs, being frightened I think, and
looked up at him. Perhaps he had spoken with this in view, for
while she still stood at gaze, her hands pressed to her bosom, he
slipped quickly out and closed the door behind him. I heard a
muttering for an instant outside, and then the tramp of feet
descending the stairs. They were gone, and we were still
undiscovered.

For Madame, she had clean forgotten our presence--of that I am
sure--and the chance of escape we might afford. On finding
herself alone she gazed a short time in alarmed silence at the
door, and then ran to the window and peered out, still trembling,
terrified, silent. So she remained a while.

She had not noticed that Bezers on going out had omitted to lock
the door behind him. I had. But I was unwilling to move
hastily. Some one might return to see to it before the Vidame
left the house. And besides the door was not over strong, and if
locked would be no obstacle to the three of us when we had only