She crossed the upper hall and disappeared from view down the corridor leading to her own room. Her lips were set with decision; a wild, reckless light filled her eyes, and the smile of scorn had given way to one of exaltation. Her breath came fast and tremulously through quivering nostrils as she closed her door and hurried across to the little vine-covered balcony. “The time has come--the time has come, thank God!” she was saying to herself, over and over again. The French doors stuck. She was jerking angrily at them when her maid hurried in from the bedroom, attracted by the unusual commotion. “_Que faites vous, madame?_” she cried anxiously. Her mistress turned quickly. “Listen! Go downstairs at once and tell them that I have dismissed you. At once, do you hear?” “_Oui madame!_” cried Céleste, her eyes dancing with a sudden, incomprehensible delight. “You are to leave the house immediately. I dismiss you. You have been stealing from me, do you understand?” “_Oui, madame. Je comprendes parfaitement, madame!_” cried the maid, actually clapping her hands. “You will pack two steamer-trunks and get them out of the house before five o'clock. You are going back to Paris. You are dismissed.” The little Frenchwoman beamed. “_Certainement, madame! Par le premier bateau. Je comprend_.” “The first boat for Havre--do you know the hour for sailing? Consult the morning paper, Céleste.” “_En bien, madame. La Provence. Il part demain. Je------_” “Go at once!” cried the mistress, waving her hands excitedly. “_Vous me renvoyez!_” And the little maid dashed out of the room. As she descended the back stairs an amazing change came over her. Her sprightly face became black with sullen rage and her eyes snapped with fury. So violent was her manner when she accosted Jones in the servants' hall that he fell back in some alarm. She was not long in making him understand that she had been dismissed, however, and that she would surely poison the diabolical creature upstairs if she remained in the house another hour. Even the cook, who had a temper of her own, was appalled by the exhibition; other servants were struck dumb. Jones, perspiring freely, said something about calling in an officer, and then Céleste began to weep bitterly. All she wanted was to get out of the house before she did something desperate to the cruel tyrant upstairs, and she'd be eternally grateful to Jones if he'd get her trunks out of the storeroom as soon as------ But Jones was already on his way to give instructions to the furnace-man. Céleste took the occasion to go into hysterics, and the entire servant body fell to work hissing “_Sh--h!_” in an agony of apprehension lest the turmoil should penetrate the walls and reach the ears of the “woman upstairs.” They closed all of the doors and most of the windows, and the upstairs maid thought it would be a good idea to put a blanket over the girl's head.