“Then listen. These are my instructions—my orders—yes: my orders. Welcome your step-father peaceably. Don’t quarrel with him. Don’t even talk to him—not a word. It’s the best way of avoiding mistakes. Go with him. Return to Paris. On the very evening of your arrival get out of the house on some pretext or other. A gray-haired old lady will be waiting for you in a car, twenty yards from your door. I will drive both of you away into the country to a hiding-place in which no one will find you. And I will go away at once, I give you my word, and stay away from you till you tell me to come back. Do you agree?” “Yes,” she said and bowed her head. “In that case till to-morrow evening. And remember what I tell you: whatever happens, you understand—whatever happens, nothing shall prevail against my will to protect you and against the success of my enterprise. If everything seems to be against you, do not lose heart. Do not even worry. Tell yourself confidently, fiercely, that when the danger is greatest no danger threatens you. At the very second at which it is necessary I shall be there. I shall always be there. Good-by mademoiselle.” He bent down and lightly kissed the border of her cloak. Then, pushing aside a piece of old trellis-work he stepped into the bushes and took the hardly visible path which brought him to the door in the wall. Aurelie did not stir from her seat on the bench of stone. Barely half a minute had passed when she heard a rustling of branches near the breach in the wall. She raised her head and looked towards it. The shrubs were moving. There was some one there. Yes, beyond a doubt some one was hidden there. She wanted to call out, to shout for help, but could not. Her voice died in her throat. The bushes were moving more quickly as some one forced their way through them. Who was going to appear? She hoped that it would be William or Jodot. She feared the two ruffians less than Marescal. A face appeared among the foliage. Marescal came out of his hiding-place. From below, on the right, came the sound of the closing of the door in the wall. CHAPTER VII ONE OF THE MOUTHS OF HELL If the situation of the terrace at the top of the large garden, a spot where no one ever came and walled in by thick screens of trees, had afforded Aurelie and Ralph some weeks of absolute security, must it not be supposed that Marescal was going to get a few minutes he needed, and that Aurelie could hope for no help? Inevitably the scene would follow its course to the end willed by her enemy and the dénouement would be in accordance with his implacable will. He was so sure of it that he did not hurry. He advanced slowly and stopped. The certainty of victory spoiled the harmony of his regular features and disturbed their usual immobility. A grin raised the left corner of his mouth and drew up the left half of his square beard. His teeth were shining; his eyes were hard and cruel.