Jasper Carew appeared but seldom in public, and then with a moody brow and a preoccupied air. For the most part he kept to his own chamber, attended only by Swartz, who was as silent and reserved as his master. In the daily incidents of the siege he appeared to take no interest whatever, seeming regardless of his own safety and wholly careless of the safety of his friends. He seldom saw his sister, and then only in the most casual way. It was in vain that she endeavoured to break through the icy barrier that had grown up between them. He repelled her efforts and frequently left her in tears. It is true he had seldom troubled himself with any display of affection, but latterly his entire character seemed to have undergone a change. Between himself and De Laprade a close intimacy had sprung up. They were closeted together for hours, and it not unfrequently happened that their evening sitting was prolonged far into the morning following. Sitting in her lonely room when the household had retired for the night, Dorothy would hear the gay laugh of the Vicomte breaking at times on the quiet of the house, the rattling of the dice box, and the muttered oaths of her brother as fortune went against him. To her high spirit the shame of it was intolerable; she did not dare to speak and she could not be silent. With De Laprade she knew that she had much influence, but she had now reasons of her own for declining to make him her confidant--with her brother she was long since aware that entreaties would prove unavailing. But the fact could not be denied. A fatal passion for play had seized upon his heart; it had completely absorbed and overmastered him; he was entirely its slave. Night after night and day after day, the two--De Laprade and himself--were closeted together, and the cloud upon her brother´s brow grew blacker and his speech harsher and more abrupt. In De Laprade there had been no change perceptible. He carried himself with an easy _insouciance_ and treated her with tender deference. * * * * * On the day in which De Rosen had executed his barbarous threat they had spent many hours together in the little chamber in the basement. The roar of the cannon that had been sounding all day, the marching of men, and the tumult of the crowded street, had been hushed to a still and almost unnatural quiet. Swartz had carried away the remains of the supper that had been served to them here, and had lighted the candles in the tall silver candlesticks that stood upon the table. They had both already drunk more than enough, but this was perceptibly the case with Jasper. His face was flushed, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hands shook upon the dice-box: he had loosened his lace cravat from his throat and it lay on the floor beside him. He frowned heavily and flung down the dice-box with an oath.