[Illustration: "Come, now, my pretty prisoner; it is disagreeable, but you must forgive me."] She turned away from him, drying her eyes. Then presently their beauty shone upon me. "Grace au ciel!" she exclaimed, a great joy in her eyes and voice. "It is M'sieur Bell. Sister--baroness--it is M'sieur Bell!" I advanced to meet her, and took her hand, kissing it reverently. She covered her face, her hand upon my shoulder, and wept in silence. If it meant my death, I should die thanking God I knew, or thought I knew, that she loved me. "Ah, yes; it is M'sieur Bell--poor fellow!" said Louison, coming quickly to me. "And you, my dear, you are Ma'm'selle Louise." She spoke quickly in French, as if quite out of patience with the poor diplomacy of her sister. "I knew it was you, for I saw the emerald on your finger," she added, turning to me, "but I could not tell her." "I am glad, I am delighted, that she spoke to me," I said. I desired to save the fair girl, whose heart was ever as a child's, any sorrow for what she had done. "I was about to speak myself. It is so great a pleasure to see you all I could not longer endure silence." "They made us prisoners; they bring us here. Oh, m'sieur, it is terrible!" said the baroness. "And he is such a horrible-looking monkey!" said Louison. "Do they treat you well?" I asked. "We have a big room and enough to eat. It is not a bad prison, but it is one terrible place," said the baroness. "There is a big wall; we cannot go beyond it." "And that hairy thing! He is in love with Louise. He swears he will never let us go," said Louison, in a whisper, as she came close to me, "unless--unless she will marry him." "Ah! a tea-party," said his Lordship, coming toward us. "Pardon the interruption. I have promised to return these men at nine. It is now ten minutes of the hour. Ladies, I wish you all a very good night." He bowed politely. They pressed my hand, leaving me with such anxiety in their faces that I felt it more than my own peril, Louison gave me a tender look out of her fine eyes, and the thought of it was a light to my soul in many an hour of darkness. She had seemed so cool, so nonchalant, I was surprised to feel the tremor in her nerves. I knew not words to say when Louise took my hand. "Forgive me--good-by!" said she. It was a faint whisper out of trembling lips. I could see her soul in her face then. It was lighted with trouble and a nobler beauty than I had ever seen. It was full of tenderness and pity and things I could not understand. "Have courage!" I called as they went away. I was never in such a fierce temper as when, after they had gone above-stairs, I could hear one of them weeping. D'ri stood quietly beside me, his arms folded. "Whut ye goin' t' dew with them air women?" he asked, turning to the young man. "I beg you will give me time to consider," said his Lordship, calmly, as he lighted a cigarette.