cap on his head, adorned with a tri-colour cockade, was vigorously
beating a drum, shouting volubly the while:

"Come in and see, come in and see! the only realistic presentation of
the original guillotine. Hundreds perish in Paris every day! Come and
see! Come and see! the perfectly vivid performance of what goes on
hourly in Paris at the present moment."

Marguerite had followed the direction of Sir Percy's eyes. She too
was looking at the booth, she heard the man's monotonous, raucous
cries. She gave a slight shudder and once more looked imploringly at
her husband. His face--though outwardly as lazy and calm as before--
had a strange set look about the mouth and firm jaw, and his slender
hand, the hand of a dandy accustomed to handle cards and dice and
to play lightly with the foils, was clutched tightly beneath the folds of
the priceless Mechlin frills.

It was but a momentary stiffening of the whole powerful frame, an
instant's flash of the ruling passion hidden within that very secretive
soul. Then he once more turned towards her, the rigid lines of his
face relaxed, he broke into a pleasant laugh, and with the most
elaborate and most courtly bow he took her hand in his and raising
her fingers to his lips, he gave the answer to her questions:

"When your ladyship has ceased to be the most admired woman in
Europe, namely, when I am in my grave."