The next day, when Felton entered Milady's apartment he found herstanding, mounted upon a chair, holding in her hands a cord madeby means of torn cambric handkerchiefs, twisted into a kind ofrope one with another, and tied at the ends. At the noise Feltonmade in entering, Milady leaped lightly to the ground, and triedto conceal behind her the improvised cord she held in her hand.

The young man was more pale than usual, and his eyes, reddened bywant of sleep, denoted that he had passed a feverish night.Nevertheless, his brow was armed with a severity more austerethan ever.

He advanced slowly toward Milady, who had seated herself, andtaking an end of the murderous rope which by neglect, or perhapsby design, she allowed to be seen, "What is this, madame?" heasked coldly.

"That? Nothing," said Milady, smiling with that painfulexpression which she knew so well how to give to her smile."Ennui is the mortal enemy of prisoners; I had ennui, and Iamused myself with twisting that rope."

Felton turned his eyes toward the part of the wall of theapartment before which he had found Milady standing in thearmchair in which she was now seated, and over her head heperceived a gilt-headed screw, fixed in the wall for the purposeof hanging up clothes or weapons.

He started, and the prisoner saw that start - for though her eyeswere cast down, nothing escaped her.

"What were you doing on that armchair?" asked he.

"Of what consequence?" replied Milady.

"But," replied Felton, "I wish to know."

"Do not question me," said the prisoner; "you know that we whoare true Christians are forbidden to lie."

"Well, then," said Felton, " I will tell you what you were doing,or rather what you meant to do; you were going to complete thefatal project you cherish in your mind. Remember, madame, if ourGod forbids falsehood, he much more severely condemns suicide."

"When God sees one of his creatures persecuted unjustly, placedbetween suicide and dishonor, believe me, sir," replied Milady,in a tone of deep conviction, "God pardons suicide, for thensuicide becomes martyrdom."

"You say either too much or too little; speak, madame. In thename of heaven, explain yourself."

"That I may relate my misfortunes for you to treat them asfables; that I may tell you my projects for you to go and betraythem to my persecutor? No, sir. Besides, of what importance toyou is the life or death of a condemned wretch? You are onlyresponsible for my body, is it not so? And provided you producea carcass that may be recognized as mine, they will require nomore of you; nay, perhaps you will even have a double reward."

"I, madame, I?" cried Felton. "You suppose that I would everaccept the price of your life? Oh, you cannot believe what yousay!"

"Let me act as I please, Felton, let me act as I please," saidMilady, elated. "Every soldier must be ambitious, must he not?You are a lieutenant? Well, you will follow me to the grave withthe rank of captain."

"What have I, then, done to you," said Felton, much agitated,"that you should load me with such a responsibility before Godand before men? In a few days you will be away from this place;your life, madame, will then no longer be under my care, and,"added he, with a sigh, "then you can do what you will with it."

"So," cried Milady, as if she could not resist giving utteranceto a holy indignation, "you, a pious man, you who are called ajust man, you ask but one thing - and that is that you may not beinculpated, annoyed, by my death!"

"It is my duty to watch over your life, madame, and I willwatch."

"But do you understand the mission you are fulfilling? Cruelenough, if I am guilty; but what name can you give it, what namewill the Lord give it, if I am innocent?"

"I am a soldier, madame, and fulfill the orders I have received."

"Do you believe, then, that at the day of the Last Judgment Godwill separate blind executioners from iniquitous judges? You arenot willing that I should kill my body, and you make yourself theagent of him who would kill my soul."

"But I repeat it again to you," replied Felton, in great emotion,"no danger threatens you; I will answer for Lord de Winter as formyself."

"Dunce," cried Milady, "dunce! who dares to answer for anotherman, when the wisest, when those most after God's own heart,hesitate to answer for themselves, and who ranges himself on theside of the strongest and the most fortunate, to crush theweakest and the most unfortunate."

"Impossible, madame, impossible," murmured Felton, who felt tothe bottom of his heart the justness of this argument. "Aprisoner, you will not recover your liberty through me; living,you will not lose your life through me."

"Yes," cried Milady, "but I shall lose that which is much dearerto me than life, I shall lose my honor, Felton; and it is you,you whom I make responsible, before God and before men, for myshame and my infamy."

This time Felton, immovable as he was, or appeared to be, couldnot resist the secret influence which had already takenpossession of him. To see this woman, so beautiful, fair as thebrightest vision, to see her by turns overcome with grief andthreatening; to resist at once the ascendancy of grief andbeauty - it was too much for a visionary; it was too much for abrain weakened by the ardent dreams of an ecstatic faith; it wastoo much for a heart furrowed by the love of heaven that burns,by the hatred of men that devours.

Milady saw the trouble. She felt by intuition the flame of theopposing passions which burned with the blood in the veins of theyoung fanatic. As a skillful general, seeing the enemy ready tosurrender, marches toward him with a cry of victory, she rose,beautiful as an antique priestess, inspired like a Christianvirgin, her arms extended, her throat uncovered, her hairdisheveled, holding with one hand her robe modestly drawn overher breast, her look illumined by that fire which had alreadycreated such disorder in the veins of the young Puritan, and wenttoward him, crying out with a vehement air, and in her melodiousvoice, to which on this occasion she communicated a terribleenergy:

"Let this victim to Baal be sent,To the lions the martyr be thrown!Thy God shall teach thee to repent!>From th' abyss he'll give ear to my moan."

Felton stood before this strange apparition like one petrified.

"Who art thou? Who art thou?" cried he, clasping his hands."Art thou a messenger from God; art thou a minister from hell;art thou an angel or a demon; callest thou thyself Eloa orAstarte?"

"Do you not know me, Felton? I am neither an angel nor a demon;I am a daughter of earth, I am a sister of thy faith, that isall."

"Yes, yes!" said Felton, "I doubted, but now I believe."

"You believe, and still you are an accomplice of that child ofBelial who is called Lord de Winter! You believe, and yet youleave me in the hands of mine enemies, of the enemy of England,of the enemy of God! You believe, and yet you deliver me up tohim who fills and defiles the world with his heresies anddebaucheries - to that infamous Sardanapalus whom the blind callthe Duke of Buckingham, and whom believers name Antichrist!"

"I deliver you up to Buckingham? I? what mean you by that?"

"They have eyes," cried Milady, "but they see not; ears havethey, but they hear not."

"Yes, yes!" said Felton, passing his hands over his brow, coveredwith sweat, as if to remove his last doubt. "Yes, I recognizethe voice which speaks to me in my dreams; yes, I recognize thefeatures of the angel who appears to me every night, crying to mysoul, which cannot sleep: 'Strike, save England, save thyself - for thou wilt die without having appeased God!' Speak, speak!"cried Felton, "I can understand you now."

A flash of terrible joy, but rapid as thought, gleamed from theeyes of Milady.

However fugitive this homicide flash, Felton saw it, and startedas if its light had revealed the abysses of this woman's heart.He recalled, all at once, the warnings of Lord de Winter, theseductions of Milady, her first attempts after her arrival. Hedrew back a step, and hung down his head, without, however,ceasing to look at her, as if, fascinated by this strangecreature, he could not detach his eyes from her eyes.

Milady was not a woman to misunderstand the meaning of thishesitation. Under her apparent emotions her icy coolness neverabandoned her. Before Felton replied, and before she should beforced to resume this conversation, so difficult to be sustainedin the same exalted tone, she let her hands fall; and as if theweakness of the woman overpowered the enthusiasm of the inspiredfanatic, she said: "But no, it is not for me to be the Judith todeliver Bethulia from this Holofernes. The sword of the eternalis too heavy for my arm. Allow me, then, to avoid dishonor bydeath; let me take refuge in martyrdom. I do not ask you forliberty, as a guilty one would, nor for vengeance, as would apagan. Let me die; that is all. I supplicate you, I implore youon my knees - let me die, and my last sigh shall be a blessing formy preserver."

Hearing that voice, so sweet and suppliant, seeing that look, sotimid and downcast, Felton reproached himself. By degrees theenchantress had clothed herself with that magic adornment whichshe assumed and threw aside at will; that is to say, beauty,meekness, and tears - and above all, the irresistible attractionof mystical voluptuousness, the most devouring of allvoluptuousness.

"Alas!" said Felton, "I can do but one thing, which is to pityyou if you prove to me you are a victim! But Lord de Wintermakes cruel accusations against you. You are a Christian; youare my sister in religion. I feel myself drawn toward you - I,who have never loved anyone but my benefactor - I who have metwith nothing but traitors and impious men. But you, madame, sobeautiful in reality, you, so pure in appearance, must havecommitted great iniquities for Lord de Winter to pursue youthus."

"They have eyes," repeated Milady, with an accent ofindescribable grief, "but they see not; ears have they, but theyhear not."

"But," cried the young officer, "speak, then, speak!"

"Confide my shame to you," cried Milady, with the blush ofmodesty upon her countenance, "for often the crime of one becomesthe shame of another - confide my shame to you, a man, and I awoman? Oh," continued she, placing her hand modestly over herbeautiful eyes, "never! never! - I could not!"

"To me, to a brother?" said Felton.

Milady looked at him for some time with an expression which theyoung man took for doubt, but which, however, was nothing butobservation, or rather the wish to fascinate.

Felton, in his turn a suppliant, clasped his hands.

"Well, then," said Milady, "I confide in my brother; I will dareto - "

At this moment the steps of Lord de Winter were heard; but thistime the terrible brother-in-law of Milady did not contenthimself, as on the preceding day, with passing before the doorand going away again. He paused, exchanged two words with thesentinel; then the door opened, and he appeared.

During the exchange of these two words Felton drew back quickly,and when Lord de Winter entered, he was several paces from theprisoner.

The baron entered slowly, sending a scrutinizing glance fromMilady to the young officer.

"You have been here a very long time, John," said he. "Has thiswoman been relating her crimes to you? In that case I cancomprehend the length of the conversation."

Felton started; and Milady felt she was lost if she did not cometo the assistance of the disconcerted Puritan.

"Ah, you fear your prisoner should escape!" said she. "Well, askyour worthy jailer what favor I this instant solicited of him."

"You demanded a favor,?" said the baron, suspiciously.

"Yes, my Lord," replied the young man, confused.

"And what favor, pray?" asked Lord de Winter.

"A knife, which she would return to me through the grating of thedoor a minute after she had received it," replied Felton.

"There is someone, then, concealed here whose throat this amiablelady is desirous of cutting," said De Winter, in an ironical,contemptuous tone.

"There is myself," replied Milady.

"I have given you the choice between America and Tyburn," repliedLord de Winter. "Choose Tyburn, madame. Believe me, the cord ismore certain than the knife."

Felton grew pale, and made a step forward, remembering that atthe moment he entered Milady had a rope in her hand.

"You are right," said she, "I have often thought of it." Thenshe added in a low voice, "And I will think of it again."

Felton felt a shudder run to the marrow of his bones; probablyLord de Winter perceived this emotion.

"Mistrust yourself, John," said he. "I have placed reliance uponyou, my friend. Beware! I have warned you! But be of goodcourage, my lad; in three days we shall be delivered from thiscreature, and where I shall send her she can harm nobody."

"You hear him!" cried Milady, with vehemence, so that the baronmight believe she was addressing heaven, and that Felton mightunderstand she was addressing him.

Felton lowered his head and reflected.

The baron took the young officer by the arm, and turned his headover his shoulder, so as not to lose sight of Milady till he wasgone out.

"Well," said the prisoner, when the door was shut, "I am not sofar advanced as I believed. De Winter has changed his usualstupidity into a strange prudence. It is the desire ofvengeance, and how desire molds a man! As to Felton, hehesitates. Ah, he is not a man like that cursed D'Artagnan. APuritan only adores virgins, and he adores them by clasping hishands. A Musketeer loves women, and he loves them by claspinghis arms round them."

Milady waited, then, with much impatience, for she feared the daywould pass away without her seeing Felton again. At last, in anhour after the scene we have just described, she heard someonespeaking in a low voice at the door. Presently the door opened,and she perceived Felton.

The young man advanced rapidly into the chamber, leaving the dooropen behind him, and making a sign to Milady to be silent; hisface was much agitated.

"What do you want with me?" said she.

"Listen," replied Felton, in a low voice. "I have just sent awaythe sentinel that I might remain here without anybody knowing it,in order to speak to you without being overheard. The baron hasjust related a frightful story to me."

Milady assumed her smile of a resigned victim, and shook herhead.

"Either you are a demon," continued Felton, "or the baron - mybenefactor, my father - is a monster. I have known you four days;I have loved him four years. I therefore may hesitate betweenyou. Be not alarmed at what I say; I want to be convinced.Tonight, after twelve, I will come and see you, and you shallconvince me."

"No, Felton, no, my brother," said she; "the sacrifice is toogreat, and I feel what it must cost you. No, I am lost; do notbe lost with me. My death will be much more eloquent than mylife, and the silence of the corpse will convince you much betterthan the words of the prisoner."

"Be silent, madame," cried Felton, "and do not speak to me thus;I came to entreat you to promise me upon your honor, to swear tome by what you hold most sacred, that you will make no attemptupon your life."

"I will not promise," said Milady, "for no one has more respectfor a promise or an oath than I have; and if I make a promise Imust keep it."

"Well," said Felton, "only promise till you have seen me again.If, when you have seen me again, you still persist - well, thenyou shall be free, and I myself will give you the weapon youdesire."

"Well," said Milady, "for you I will wait."

"Swear."

"I swear it, by our God. Are you satisfied?"

"Well," said Felton, "till tonight."

And he darted out of the room, shut the door, and waited in thecorridor, the soldier's half-pike in his hand, and as if he hadmounted guard in his place.

The soldier returned, and Felton gave him back his weapon.

Then, through the grating to which she had drawn near, Milady sawthe young man make a sign with delirious fervor, and depart in anapparent transport of joy.

As for her, she returned to her place with a smile of savagecontempt upon her lips, and repeated, blaspheming, that terriblename of God, by whom she had just sworn without ever havinglearned to know Him.

"My God," said she, "what a senseless fanatic! My God, it is I - I - and this fellow who will help me to avenge myself."