Felton had fallen; but there was still another step to be taken.He must be retained, or rather he must be left quite alone; andMilady but obscurely perceived the means which could lead to thisresult.

Still more must be done. He must be made to speak, in order thathe might be spoken to - for Milady very well knew that hergreatest seduction was in her voice, which so skillfully ran overthe whole gamut of tones from human speech to language celestial.

Yet in spite of all this seduction Milady might fail - for Feltonwas forewarned, and that against the least chance. From thatmoment she watched all his actions, all his words, from thesimplest glance of his eyes to his gestures - even to a breaththat could be interpreted as a sigh. In short, she studiedeverything, as a skillful comedian does to whom a new part hasbeen assigned in a line to which he is not accustomed.

Face to face with Lord de Winter her plan of conduct was moreeasy. She had laid that down the preceding evening. To remainsilent and dignified in his presence; from time to time toirritate him by affected disdain, by a contemptuous word; toprovoke him to threats and violence which would produce acontrast with her own resignation - such was her plan. Feltonwould see all; perhaps he would say nothing, but he would see.

In the morning, Felton came as usual; but Milady allowed him topreside over all the preparations for breakfast withoutaddressing a word to him. At the moment when he was about toretire, she was cheered with a ray of hope, for she thought hewas about to speak; but his lips moved without any sound leavinghis mouth, and making a powerful effort to control himself, hesent back to his heart the words that were about to escape fromhis lips, and went out. Toward midday, Lord de Winter entered.

It was a tolerably fine winter's day, and a ray of that paleEnglish sun which lights but does not warm came through the barsof her prison.

Milady was looking out at the window, and pretended not to hearthe door as it opened.

"Ah, ah!" said Lord de Winter, "after having played comedy, afterhaving played tragedy, we are now playing melancholy?"

The prisoner made no reply.

"Yes, yes," continued Lord de Winter, "I understand. You wouldlike very well to be a liberty on that beach! You would likevery well to be in a good ship dancing upon the waves of thatemerald-green sea; you would like very well, either on land or onthe ocean, to lay for me one of those nice little ambuscades youare so skillful in planning. Patience, patience! In four days'time the shore will be beneath your feet, the sea will be open toyou - more open than will perhaps be agreeable to you, for in fourdays England will be relieved of you."

Milady folded her hands, and raising her fine eyes toward heaven,"Lord, Lord," said she, with an angelic meekness of gesture andtone, "pardon this man, as I myself pardon him."

"Yes, pray, accursed woman!" cried the baron; "your prayer is somuch the more generous from your being, I swear to you, in thepower of a man who will never pardon you!" and he went out.

At the moment he went out a piercing glance darted through theopening of the nearly closed door, and she perceived Felton, whodrew quickly to one side to prevent being seen by her.

Then she threw herself upon her knees, and began to pray.

"My God, my God!" said she, "thou knowest in what holy cause Isuffer; give me, then, strength to suffer."

The door opened gently; the beautiful supplicant pretended not tohear the noise, and in a voice broken by tears, she continued:

"God of vengeance! God of goodness! wilt thou allow thefrightful projects of this man to be accomplished?"

Then only she pretended to hear the sound of Felton's steps, andrising quick as thought, she blushed, as if ashamed of beingsurprised on her knees.

"I do not like to disturb those who pray, madame," said Felton,seriously; "do not disturb yourself on my account, I beseechyou."

"How do you know I was praying, sir?" said Milady, in a voicebroken by sobs. "You were deceived, sir; I was not praying."

"Do you think, then, madame," replied Felton, in the same seriousvoice, but with a milder tone, "do you think I assume the rightof preventing a creature from prostrating herself before herCreator? God forbid! Besides, repentance becomes the guilty;whatever crimes they may have committed, for me the guilty aresacred at the feet of God!"

"Guilty? I?" said Milady, with a smile which might have disarmedthe angel of the last judgment. "Guilty? Oh, my God, thouknowest whether I am guilty! Say I am condemned, sir, if youplease; but you know that God, who loves martyrs, sometimespermits the innocent to be condemned."

"Were you condemned, were you innocent, were you a martyr,"replied Felton, "the greater would be the necessity for prayer;and I myself would aid you with my prayers."

"Oh, you are a just man!" cried Milady, throwing herself at hisfeet. "I can hold out no longer, for I fear I shall be wantingin strength at the moment when I shall be forced to undergo thestruggle, and confess my faith. Listen, then, to thesupplication of a despairing woman. You are abused, sir; butthat is not the question. I only ask you one favor; and if yougrant it me, I will bless you in this world and in the next."

"Speak to the master, madame," said Felton; "happily I am neithercharged with the power of pardoning nor punishing. It is uponone higher placed than I am that God has laid thisresponsibility."

"To you - no, to you alone! Listen to me, rather than add to mydestruction, rather than add to my ignominy!"

"If you have merited this shame, madame, if you have incurredthis ignominy, you must submit to it as an offering to God."

"What do you say? Oh, you do not understand me! When I speak ofignominy, you think I speak of some chastisement, of imprisonmentor death. Would to heaven! Of what consequence to me isimprisonment or death?"

"It is I who no longer understand you, madame," said Felton.

"Or, rather, who pretend not to understand me, sir!" replied theprisoner, with a smile of incredulity.

"No, madame, on the honor of a soldier, on the faith of aChristian."

"What, you are ignorant of Lord de Winter's designs upon me?"

"I am."

"Impossible; you are his confidant!"

"I never lie, madame."

"Oh, he conceals them too little for you not to divine them."

"I seek to divine nothing, madame; I wait till I am confided in,and apart from that which Lord de Winter has said to me beforeyou, he has confided nothing to me."

"Why, then," cried Milady, with an incredible tone oftruthfulness, "you are not his accomplice; you do not know thathe destines me to a disgrace which all the punishments of theworld cannot equal in horror?"

"You are deceived, madame," said Felton, blushing; "Lord deWinter is not capable of such a crime."

"Good," said Milady to herself; "without thinking what it is, hecalls it a crime!" Then aloud, "The friend of THAT WRETCH iscapable of everything."

"Whom do you call 'that wretch'?" asked Felton.

"Are there, then, in England two men to whom such an epithet canbe applied?"

"You mean George Villiers?" asked Felton, whose looks becameexcited.

"Whom Pagans and unbelieving Gentiles call Duke of Buckingham,"replied Milady. "I could not have thought that there was anEnglishman in all England who would have required so long anexplanation to make him understand of whom I was speaking."

"The hand of the Lord is stretched over him," said Felton; "hewill not escape the chastisement he deserves."

Felton only expressed, with regard to the duke, the feeling ofexecration which all the English had declared toward him whom theCatholics themselves called the extortioner, the pillager, thedebauchee, and whom the Puritans styled simply Satan.

"Oh, my God, my God!" cried Milady; "when I supplicate thee topour upon this man the chastisement which is his due, thouknowest it is not my own vengeance I pursue, but the deliveranceof a whole nation that I implore!"

"Do you know him, then?" asked Felton.

"At length he interrogates me!" said Milady to herself, at theheight of joy at having obtained so quickly such a great result."Oh, know him? Yes, yes! to my misfortune, to my eternalmisfortune!" and Milady twisted her arms as if in a paroxysm ofgrief.

Felton no doubt felt within himself that his strength wasabandoning him, and he made several steps toward the door; butthe prisoner, whose eye never left him, sprang in pursuit of himand stopped him.

"Sir," cried she, "be kind, be clement, listen to my prayer!That knife, which the fatal prudence of the baron deprived me of,because he knows the use I would make of it! Oh, hear me to theend! that knife, give it to me for a minute only, for mercy's,for pity's sake! I will embrace your knees! You shall shut thedoor that you may be certain I contemplate no injury to you! MyGod! to you - the only just, good, and compassionate being I havemet with! To you - my preserver, perhaps! One minute that knife,one minute, a single minute, and I will restore it to you throughthe grating of the door. Only one minute, Mr. Felton, and youwill have saved my honor!"

"To kill yourself?" cried Felton, with terror, forgetting towithdraw his hands from the hands of the prisoner, "to killyourself?"

"I have told, sir," murmured Milady, lowering her voice, andallowing herself to sink overpowered to the ground; "I have toldmy secret! He knows all! My God, I am lost!"

Felton remained standing, motionless and undecided.

"He still doubts," thought Milady; "I have not been earnestenough."

Someone was heard in the corridor; Milady recognized the step ofLord de Winter.

Felton recognized it also, and made a step toward the door.

Milady sprang toward him. "Oh, not a word," said she in aconcentrated voice, "not a word of all that I have said to you tothis man, or I am lost, and it would be you - you - "

Then as the steps drew near, she became silent for fear of beingheard, applying, with a gesture of infinite terror, her beautifulhand to Felton's mouth.

Felton gently repulsed Milady, and she sank into a chair.

Lord de Winter passed before the door without stopping, and theyheard the noise of his footsteps soon die away.

Felton, as pale as death, remained some instants with his earbent and listening; then, when the sound was quite extinct, hebreathed like a man awaking from a dream, and rushed out of theapartment.

"Ah!" said Milady, listening in her turn to the noise of Felton'ssteps, which withdrew in a direction opposite to those of Lord deWinter; "at length you are mine!"

Then her brow darkened. "If he tells the baron," said she, "I amlost - for the baron, who knows very well that I shall not killmyself, will place me before him with a knife in my hand, and hewill discover that all this despair is but acted."

She placed herself before the glass, and regarded herselfattentively; never had she appeared more beautiful.

"Oh, yes," said she, smiling, "but we won't tell him!"

In the evening Lord de Winter accompanied the supper.

"Sir," said Milady, "is your presence an indispensable accessoryof my captivity? Could you not spare me the increase of torturewhich your visits cause me?"

"How, dear sister!" said Lord de Winter. "Did not yousentimentally inform me with that pretty mouth of yours, so cruelto me today, that you came to England solely for the pleasure ofseeing me at your ease, an enjoyment of which you told me you sosensibly felt the deprivation that you had risked everything forit - seasickness, tempest, captivity? Well, here I am; besatisfied. Besides, this time, my visit has a motive."

Milady trembled; she thought Felton had told all. Perhaps neverin her life had this woman, who had experienced so many oppositeand powerful emotions, felt her heart beat so violently.

She was seated. Lord de Winter took a chair, drew it toward her,and sat down close beside her. Then taking a paper out of hispocket, he unfolded it slowly.

"Here," said he, "I want to show you the kind of passport which Ihave drawn up, and which will serve you henceforward as the ruleof order in the life I consent to leave you."

Then turning his eyes from Milady to the paper, he read: "'Orderto conduct - ' The name is blank," interrupted Lord de Winter."If you have any preference you can point it out to me; and if itbe not within a thousand leagues of London, attention will bepaid to your wishes. I will begin again, then:

"'Order to conduct to - the person named Charlotte Backson,branded by the justice of the kingdom of France, but liberatedafter chastisement. She is to dwell in this place without evergoing more than three leagues from it. In case of any attempt toescape, the penalty of death is to be applied. She will receivefive shillings per day for lodging and food'".

"That order does not concern me," replied Milady, coldly, "sinceit bears another name than mine."

"A name? Have you a name, then?"

"I bear that of your brother."

"Ay, but you are mistaken. My brother is only your secondhusband; and your first is still living. Tell me his name, and Iwill put it in the place of the name of Charlotte Backson. No?You will not? You are silent? Well, then you must be registeredas Charlotte Backson."

Milady remained silent; only this time it was no longer fromaffectation, but from terror. She believed the order ready forexecution. She thought that Lord de Winter had hastened herdeparture; she thought she was condemned to set off that veryevening. Everything in her mind was lost for an instant; whenall at once she perceived that no signature was attached to theorder. The joy she felt at this discovery was so great she couldnot conceal it.

"Yes, yes," said Lord de Winter, who perceived what was passingin her mind; "yes, you look for the signature, and you say toyourself: 'All is not lost, for that order is not signed. It isonly shown to me to terrify me, that's all.' You are mistaken.Tomorrow this order will be sent to the Duke of Buckingham. Theday after tomorrow it will return signed by his hand and markedwith his seal; and four-and-twenty hours afterward I will answerfor its being carried into execution. Adieu, madame. That isall I had to say to you."

"And I reply to you, sir, that this abuse of power, this exileunder a fictitious name, are infamous!"

"Would you like better to be hanged in your true name, Milady?You know that the English laws are inexorable on the abuse ofmarriage. Speak freely. Although my name, or rather that of mybrother, would be mixed up with the affair, I will risk thescandal of a public trial to make myself certain of getting ridof you."

Milady made no reply, but became as pale as a corpse.

"Oh, I see you prefer peregrination. That's well madame; andthere is an old proverb that says, 'Traveling trains youth.' Myfaith! you are not wrong after all, and life is sweet. That'sthe reason why I take such care you shall not deprive me of mine.There only remains, then, the question of the five shillings tobe settled. You think me rather parsimonious, don't you? That'sbecause I don't care to leave you the means of corrupting yourjailers. Besides, you will always have your charms left toseduce them with. Employ them, if your check with regard toFelton has not disgusted you with attempts of that kind."

"Felton has not told him," said Milady to herself. "Nothing islost, then."

"And now, madame, till I see you again! Tomorrow I will come andannounce to you the departure of my messenger."

Lord de Winter rose, saluted her ironically, and went out.

Milady breathed again. She had still four days before her. Fourdays would quite suffice to complete the seduction of Felton.

A terrible idea, however, rushed into her mind. She thought thatLord de Winter would perhaps send Felton himself to get the ordersigned by the Duke of Buckingham. In that case Felton wouldescape her - for in order to secure success, the magic of acontinuous seduction was necessary. Nevertheless, as we havesaid, one circumstance reassured her. Felton had not spoken.

As she would not appear to be agitated by the threats of Lord deWinter, she placed herself at the table and ate.

Then, as she had done the evening before, she fell on her kneesand repeated her prayers aloud. As on the evening before, thesoldier stopped his march to listen to her.

Soon after she heard lighter steps than those of the sentinel,which came from the end of the corridor and stopped before herdoor.

"It is he," said she. And she began the same religious chantwhich had so strongly excited Felton the evening before.

But although her voice - sweet, full, and sonorous - vibrated asharmoniously and as affectingly as ever, the door remained shut.It appeared however to Milady that in one of the furtive glancesshe darted from time to time at the grating of the door shethought she saw the ardent eyes of the young man through thenarrow opening. But whether this was reality or vision, he hadthis time sufficient self-command not to enter.

However, a few instants after she had finished her religioussong, Milady thought she heard a profound sigh. Then the samesteps she had heard approach slowly withdrew, as if with regret.