Her words, and the pathetic voice with which they were uttered, should
have shamed him, but they only put him into a furious rage. He repulsed
her, calling her the vilest names, and finally telling her that she was a
hypocrite, and he felt certain she had already granted me all a worthless
girl could grant.

Betty grew pale as death, and furious in my turn, I ran for my sword. I
should probably have run him through, if the infamous scoundrel had not
fled into the next room, where he locked himself in.

I was in despair at seeing Betty's distress, of which I had been the
innocent cause, and I did my best to soothe her.

She was in an alarming state. Her breath came with difficulty, her eyes
seemed ready to start out of her head, her lips were bloodless and
trembling, and her teeth shut tight together. Everyone in the inn was
asleep. I could not call for help, and all I could do was to dash water
in her face, and speak soothing words.

At last she fell asleep, and I remained beside her for more than two
hours, attentive to her least movements, and hoping that she would awake
strengthened and refreshed.

At day-break I heard l'Etoile going off, and I was glad of it. The people
of the inn knocked at our door, and then Betty awoke.

"Are you ready to go, my dear Betty?"

"I am much better, but I should so like a cup of tea."