"Deringham was a very distinguished man," he remarked, "but he was stark mad, and has been for years. They have been able to keep it quiet, only because he was harmless." "You remember what I told you about these people," Helène said sternly; "I told you distinctly that I would not have them harmed in any way. You were at Deringham Hall on the morning of his seizure. You went straight there from the Lodge." "That is quite true," he admitted; "but I had nothing to do with his illness." "I wish I could feel quite certain of that," Helène answered. "You are a very determined man, and you went there to get papers from him by any means. You proved that you were altogether reckless as to how you got them, by your treatment of Lord Wolfenden. You succeeded! No one living knows by what means!" He interrupted her with an impatient gesture. "There is nothing in this worth discussion," he declared. "Lord Deringham is nothing to you--you never even saw him in your life, and if you really have any misgivings about it, I can assure you that I got what I wanted from him without violence. It is not a matter for you to concern yourself in, nor is it a matter worth considering at all, especially at such a time as the present." She sat quite still, her head resting upon her gloved hand. He did not altogether like her appearance. "I want you to understand," he continued slowly, "that success, absolute success is ours. I have the personal pledge of the German Emperor, signed by his own hand. To-morrow at noon the compact is concluded. In a few weeks, at the most, the thunderbolt will have fallen. These arrogant Islanders will be facing a great invasion, whose success is already made absolutely sure. And then----" He paused: his face kindled with a passionate enthusiasm, his eyes were lit with fire. There was something great in the man's rapt expression. "Then, the only true, the only sweet battle-cry in the French tongue, will ring through the woods of Brittany, ay, even to the walls of Paris. _Vive la France! Vive la Monarchie!_" "France has suffered so much," she murmured; "do not you who love her so tremble when you think of her rivers running once more red with blood?" "If there be war at all," he answered, "it will be brief. Year by year the loyalists have gained power and influence. I have notes here from secret agents in every town, almost in every village; the great heart of Paris is with us. Henri will only have to show himself, and the voice of the people will shout him king! And you----" "For me," she interrupted, "nothing! I withdraw! I will not marry Henri, he must stand his chance alone! His is the elder branch--he is the direct heir to the throne!" Mr. Sabin drew in a long breath between his teeth. He was nerving himself for a great effort. This fear had been the one small, black cloud in the sky of his happiness.