Mirepoix to deal with. So I kept the others where they were by a
nudge and a pinch, and held my breath a moment, straining my ears
to catch the closing of the door below. I did not hear that.
But I did catch a sound that otherwise might have escaped me, but
which now riveted my eyes to the door of our room. Some one in
the silence, which followed the trampling on the stairs, had
cautiously laid a hand on the latch.

The light in the room was dim. Mirepoix had taken one of the
candles with him, and the other wanted snuffing. I could not see
whether the latch moved; whether or no it was rising. But
watching intently, I made out that the door was being opened--
slowly, noiselessly. I saw someone enter--a furtive gliding
shadow.

For a moment I felt nervous--then I recognised the dark hooded
figure. It was only Madame d'O. Brave woman! She had evaded
the Vidame and slipped back to the rescue. Ha, ha! We would
defeat the Vidame yet! Things were going better!

But then something in her manner--as she stood holding the door
and peering into the room--something in her bearing startled and
frightened me. As she came forward her movements were so
stealthy that her footsteps made no sound. Her dark shadow,
moving ahead of her across the floor, was not more silent than
she. An undefined desire to make a noise, to give the alarm,
seized me.

Half-way across the room she stopped to listen, and looked round,
startled herself, I think, by the silence. She could not see her