Madame de X—— raised her head and fixed on him a pair of scornful dark eyes. “Her husband, Monsieur, was innocent of the smallest crime; he did not even know your troops had entered Belgium. He was shot, it was said later, to avenge a stupid peasant’s act! If my daughter is to suffer the same fate, then, I beg of you, extend your vengeance to me; for such sorrows craze the mind and are likely to make criminals of the best of us!” Although, unlike Madame de Z——’s husband, who had done nothing, the speaker was aware of her own guilt, her words expressed the bitter grief that enabled her and her daughter to risk their lives, not only to serve their country, but to avenge a crime that had broken their hearts. “My dear Madame,” returned the officer, somewhat impressed by her sincerely tragic tone, “there is no question of vengeance in this matter. Indeed, my sympathy is so greatly with you, I should gladly serve you to the full extent of my power. It is, I know, dreadful for a mother to see her loved child condemned to be shot as a criminal, unable even to bid her a last farewell.” The woman’s hands trembled slightly, but, noting it, she took scissors from the work-basket and calmly cut the silk from her needle, rethreaded it, and began work on another flower as she remarked quietly: “I cannot anticipate such a horror on false evidence. Surely you will take time, you will investigate the matter thoroughly before condemning her!” “Naturally; but before we leave this house positive proof will be in our hands.” She glanced up, apparently mystified. “A proof you will find here—in my house!” “Yes, Madame; the papers your daughter brought here last night.” “Oh!” She smiled again, the pathetic mirthless smile of baffled innocence. “If those papers are here, Monsieur, you have full liberty to find them.” “Where did your daughter go to-day?” he asked abruptly. “Which daughter?” “Madame de Z——” “I had no idea she had gone anywhere. Surely if she left the château she would come to see me! Her sister was here last night and said nothing of my daughter Amelia having left the country.” “Her sister is Madame de R——, is she not?” “Yes, Madame Charles de R——.” “And she was here to see you last night?” “She passed the night with me, as I was not well, and returned early this morning to her house on rue de Bellevue.” The officer grunted and, for the first time, looked away from her, glancing thoughtfully about the room. Madame de X—— noted the change in his face, and, after some moments of silence, said quietly: “Will you not be seated, Monsieur?” and indicated a chair near her. He sat heavily, laying sword across his knees and remarked, after a pause: “This is a sad business, and very distasteful to me.” “I can well imagine so, Monsieur,” she returned, with a touch of irony he did not notice.