ground by her side, and submitting gladly to be fed by her pretty white
fingers; for it was one of her fancies, Jacques said, to do all she could
for him, in consideration of his broken arm. And, indeed, Clement was
wasting away daily; for he had received other injuries, internal and more
serious than that to his arm, during the melee which had ended in his
capture. The stranger made Jacques conscious of his presence by a sigh,
which was almost a groan. All three prisoners looked round at the sound.
Clement's face expressed little but scornful indifference; but Virginie's
face froze into stony hate. Jacques said he never saw such a look, and
hoped that he never should again. Yet after that first revelation of
feeling, her look was steady and fixed in another direction to that in
which the stranger stood,--still motionless--still watching. He came a
step nearer at last.

"'Mademoiselle,' he said. Not the quivering of an eyelash showed that
she heard him. 'Mademoiselle!' he said again, with an intensity of
beseeching that made Jacques--not knowing who he was--almost pity him,
when he saw his young lady's obdurate face.

"There was perfect silence for a space of time which Jacques could not
measure. Then again the voice, hesitatingly, saying, 'Monsieur!' Clement
could not hold the same icy countenance as Virginie; he turned his head
with an impatient gesture of disgust; but even that emboldened the man.

"'Monsieur, do ask mademoiselle to listen to me,--just two words.'

"'Mademoiselle de Crequy only listens to whom she chooses.' Very
haughtily my Clement would say that, I am sure.

"'But, mademoiselle,'--lowering his voice, and coming a step or two