There was so sharp a ring of scorn in the tone in which she spoke--a flash of such unmeasurable contempt in the dark blue eyes--that Pharamond, though he had smarted under the lash before, felt his withers wrung, while Toinon without was torn by fear and admiration. Was he, before whose fascinations many a fair dame had willingly succumbed, so vile a reptile as to warrant the storm of disgust that racked this haughty woman? She loathed him worse than death since, seeing her impending fate with crystalline vision, she cheerfully preferred its chill embrace to his ardent one. And now with eyes flashing and delicately chiselled nostrils distended, and a tinge of rose on either pallid cheek, her beauty had gained once more the animation that it so frequently lacked. She was lovelier at this moment than he had ever seen her--and in her direful plight she shrank from his touch as though he were hideously diseased. It was written then, that he was never to attain the full measure of revenue for the rebuffs he had endured at her hands? He was not to sully this fair form, suck the orange dry then fling its rind into the gutter? What a pity! How complete the triumph would have been if she, at this eleventh hour could have been persuaded to seek safety with him in flight. He would have carried off for his own use alone the goose that laid golden eggs. How he would have snapped his fingers at Clovis and Algaé--mean grovelling worms--with their ridiculous testament which was not to be the last! What a refined pleasure it would have been, when sated, and weary of the toy, to break it slowly! He would have carried the maréchal's heiress to some secure and distant spot, have forced her by famine or other torment to execute yet another will--in his sole favour this time--and then he would have gloated over her suffering and degradation as he compelled her to sink to the lowest depths of female infamy and shame, ere, drop by drop, he squeezed away her life! And it was not to be--actually might never be, this exhilarating programme--he realized that now as he gazed in her proud face, each string of his evil nature tingling. Baffled and disappointed, he must even be content to share with the others, to carry out the plan as previously arranged, to sweep her from the path. Oh, what a grievous pity, for the other arrangement would have been deliciously complete and satisfactory. There was nothing to be gained by continuing the interview, since it had fallen to his lot to play the _rôle ridicule_. He rose, therefore, flinging the hand from him which he had so ardently been pressing with a movement of muffled fury. "On your own head be the consequences," he growled. "You have spoken your own sentence. Amen!" "My life," replied Gabrielle, drearily, "has been fraught with pain and overlong, although I'm not five and twenty! The death you threaten me withal, I will accept with thanks as a release."