He sprang into the narrow pathway. After watching him till he reached the rocks of Saint-Sulpice, Marie nodded her head in sign of satisfaction, saying to herself in a low voice: “That fat fellow has given me more than his life for his life! I can make him my creator at a very little cost! Creature or creator, that’s all the difference there is between one man and another--” She did not finish her thought, but with a look of despair she turned and re-entered the Porte Saint-Leonard, where Hulot and Corentin were awaiting her. “Two more days,” she cried, “and then--” She stopped, observing that they were not alone--“he shall fall under your guns,” she whispered to Hulot. The commandant recoiled a step and looked with a jeering contempt, impossible to render, at the woman whose features and expression gave no sign whatever of relenting. There is one thing remarkable about women: they never reason about their blameworthy actions,--feeling carries them off their feet; even in their dissimulation there is an element of sincerity; and in women alone crime may exist without baseness, for it often happens that they do not know how it came about that they committed it. “I am going to Saint-James, to a ball the Chouans give to-morrow night, and--” “But,” said Corentin, interrupting her, “that is fifteen miles distant; had I not better accompany you?” “You think a great deal too much of something I never think of at all,” she replied, “and that is yourself.” Marie’s contempt for Corentin was extremely pleasing to Hulot, who made his well-known grimace as she turned away in the direction of her own house. Corentin followed her with his eyes, letting his face express a consciousness of the fatal power he knew he could exercise over the charming creature, by working upon the passions which sooner or later, he believed, would give her to him. As soon as Mademoiselle de Verneuil reached home she began to deliberate on her ball-dress. Francine, accustomed to obey without understanding her mistress’s motives, opened the trunks, and suggested a Greek costume. The Republican fashions of those days were all Greek in style. Marie chose one which could be put in a box that was easy to carry. “Francine, my dear, I am going on an excursion into the country; do you want to go with me, or will you stay behind?” “Stay behind!” exclaimed Francine; “then who would dress you?” “Where have you put that glove I gave you this morning?” “Here it is.” “Sew this green ribbon into it, and, above all, take plenty of money.” Then noticing that Francine was taking out a number of the new Republican coins, she cried out, “Not those; they would get us murdered. Send Jeremie to Corentin--no, stay, the wretch would follow me--send to the commandant; ask him from me for some six-franc crowns.”