She cast a glance at Ralph. He, at any rate, bound hand and foot, could not hamper her plans or take part in the final battle. But Beaumagnan appeared to trouble her; and she went towards the door as if she wished to be the first to meet the person they expected, when, at the very instant at which she was going to it, quick footsteps were heard. She stepped backwards, therefore, with a movement that thrust Beaumagnan aside and cleared the door for the entrance of Leonard. He looked sharply from one to the other of the two men, then drew Josephine aside, and whispered in her ear. She seemed astounded and murmured: “What do you mean? What on earth _do_ you mean?” She turned her head that they might not see her expression; but Ralph had an impression that it was one of extreme joy. “Don’t stir,” she said. “The owner of the casket is here. Out with your revolver, Leonard. Be ready to shoot.” She turned on Beaumagnan, who was trying to open the door, and cried: “You must be mad! Stay where you are!” But when he insisted she lost her temper and said: “What do you want to go out for? What are you up to? You must know this person and want to balk us and get away with the casket. Is that your game? Speak up!” Beaumagnan did not loose the handle of the door. Josephine gripped his arm with her right hand and tried to hold him back. Perceiving that she would not succeed, she turned towards Leonard, and with her left hand pointed to Beaumagnan’s left shoulder with a gesture which bade her henchman strike and strike quietly. In about a second he had drawn a dagger from his pocket and driven it into their enemy’s left shoulder. Beaumagnan groaned and cried: “The damned jade!” and dropped fainting to the floor. She said calmly to Leonard: “Help me; and be quick about it.” The two of them dragged Beaumagnan into the recess. Leonard cut off the end of the rope which was round Ralph’s neck, and the two of them bound together the wounded man’s wrists and ankles. Then she looked at his shoulder and said: “That’s nothing--two or three days in bed and he’ll be all right again. Come on.” They went back to the door. She had performed these actions quietly, without the slightest haste and, from the expression on her face, she might have been doing the most ordinary things in the world. Every gesture was quiet and easy; she gave her orders with no vestige of excitement. But there was a note of triumph in her voice that inspired Ralph with a growing uneasiness, and he was on the point of shouting to warn the person who, in his or her turn, was walking into the trap. But what was the use? The measures of Josephine had been taken too carefully for his cry of warning to upset them. Besides he did not quite know what to do. All kinds of absurd notions were running through his mind. And then--then it was too late. A groan burst from his lips. Clarice d’Etigues came through the door! CHAPTER XII. MADNESS AND GENIUS