"Here," she said at last, "here is my part of the bargain." And, handing me the paper, she continued: "I presume it is correct?" Eagerly I ran my eyes over it, De Lorgnac bending over my shoulder and reading with me. It was correct in every particular, signed by the King, and sealed by Bertrandi. As I folded the pardon up, with an inward prayer of thanks to God, La Valentinois asked again: "It is correct, is it not?" "Perfectly, madame." "Now for your, or rather the Queen's share, of this business. Give me my letters!" I looked her straight in the face. "Pardon me, madame, Mademoiselle de Paradis is not yet free----" "What do you mean? You quibble with words, monsieur." Her lips were trembling, and her hands clenched; but, bowing coldly, I said: "No, madame, I do not quibble with words. Your letters are in Paris, and will be given to you only when Mademoiselle de Paradis is placed, unharmed and free, in her Majesty's hands. That is the bargain, as you call it, and it will be kept to the letter." With this I placed the precious document in my breast pocket, and, making a sign to De Lorgnac, turned to go; but with a cry La Valentinois sprang to her feet. "You lie!" she said shrilly; "you lie! Give me my letters, or----" And words failed her for once as she stood there, with such fear and baffled hate in her look as I have never seen in human eyes. "No, madame," I said, "I do not lie, and threats are useless. If this pardon is recalled," and I touched my breast pocket, "the consequences rest with you--and you know what they will be." "There is no need for alarm," put in De Lorgnac. "I pledge my word to deliver you the letters as soon as the conditions are complete." She glanced from the one to the other of us, and set her white teeth. "To be beaten!" she gasped rather than spoke. "To be beaten!--and by that Italian woman!" "Look you, madame!" I said sternly, for doubts were crowding thick and fast upon me. "If you have played false--if there is any treachery or trickery here--it is ruin to you, and no power in France can save you." She gave me a single, livid glance, and then her courage broke, and burying her face in her hands she stood shaking like an aspen. De Lorgnac and I looked at each other, the same thought with us, and then on a sudden the wretched woman made a step forward and clutched me by the arm, her face like death, her breath coming thick and fast. "It is not my fault," she gasped, "but he--the Vidame. Messieurs, if Mademoiselle de Paradis is to be saved, if I am to be saved, you must be in Paris ere the sun sets." "You mean?" I said hoarsely. "I mean that mademoiselle will die if the Vidame reaches Paris, and I shall be lost!" And with this she flung herself back in her chair, and began rocking herself backwards and forwards like a thing distraught, muttering to herself: "I shall be lost! I shall be lost!"