After she was gone, the women sat quietly for a time, each pondering over what they had heard. The information was not much; but it sufficed to show them in what way the influence over the weak baronet had been obtained, and every detail of Le Gautier’s movement might be of use. A wild plan formed itself in Isodore’s busy brain, as she sat thinking there. ‘Why should it not be?’ she thought. ‘Do you think it would be possible for any one to love me?’ she asked. Valerie looked into the beautiful face and smiled. ‘How otherwise?’ ‘Then it shall be so. Valerie, I am going to make Hector le Gautier love me as he never loved woman before!’ CHAPTER IX. Hector le Gautier, all unconscious of the plot against his safety and peace of mind, sat over his breakfast the same morning. He was on remarkably good terms with himself, for all his plans were prospering, and for him the present outlook was a rosy one. His plans were well laid. He intended to keep his present position in the League, to go to Warsaw if necessary; and now that he had Sir Geoffrey in his hands beyond all hope of extrication, it was easy enough to send Maxwell upon some dangerous foreign mission, where, if he escaped with his life, he would henceforth be an outlaw and a fugitive. Sir Geoffrey, too, had bound himself to join; and with this lever, he could work upon Enid’s fears to perfection. He was in no hurry; he was far too consummate a rogue, too accomplished a schemer, to ruin the delicate combination by any premature move, preferring for the present to renew his forces and calculate his advance, as a chess-player might when he knows the game is in his hands. Then should come the crowning act, by which he should rid himself of the irksome chains which bound him to the League. All his plans were prepared for delivering the leaders into the hands of justice, always with a care to his own escape. As he turned these things over in his mind, he whistled a little air gaily, resumed his breakfast, and opened the broadsheet of the _Times_ to see the news of the day. Fortune seemed to be smiling upon him, he thought, as he read the mystic announcement in the second outside column. Here was the thing which had caused him so much anxious thought as good as delivered again into his hands. Some friend, perhaps, had discovered his loss, and had determined to return it thus. Perhaps—and here he showed his white teeth in a dazzling smile—some fair one, who had taken this way to show her admiration; for Le Gautier was, like most vain men, a great admirer of the sex, and fully impressed with the all-conquering fascination of his manner. He was not the first clever man who has held such opinions, and found, when too late, the fatal error of underrating the power of an injured woman.