whose power she had yet had no time to think. She caught him by
the throat with a hand of such nervous strength as one would little
have suspected from its white and delicate contour. Her dagger was
poised in the air, and the captain, taken thus suddenly, was palsied
with amazement and could raise no hand to defend himself from the
blow impending.

But the Abbot stepped suddenly to her side and caught her wrist in
his thin, transparent hand.

"Forbear," he bade her. "The man is but a tool."

She fell back - dragged back almost by the Abbot -- panting with
rage and grief; and then she noticed that during the moment that
her back had been turned the pall had been swept from the coffin.
The sight of the bare deal box arrested her attention, and for the
moment turned aside her anger. What fresh surprise did they prepare
her?

No sooner had she asked herself the question than herself she
answered it, and an icy hand seemed to close about her heart. It
was Marius who was dead. They had lied to her. Marius's was the
body they had borne to Condillac - those men in the livery of her
stepson.

With a sudden sob in her throat she took a step towards the coffin.
She must see for herself. One way or the other she must at once
dispel this torturing doubt. But ere she had taken three paces,
she stood arrested again, her hands jerked suddenly to the height
of her breast, her lips parting to let out a scream of terror. For