In the first moment I thought the room was empty; then I saw madame half-sitting, half-lying on a couch in one corner, holding the younger woman in her arms. As we approached she raised a warning finger to her lips, and I saw with a sudden burst of tenderness that Charlotte had fallen asleep. “Do not disturb her,” warned madame in a low voice; but at that instant the sleeper opened her eyes. For a moment she stared up at us blankly; then her eyes met mine and a wave of crimson swept from brow to chin. “I have been asleep,” she said, sitting hastily erect. “In spite of all my boasting,” she added, smiling up at me. “Yes,” said M. le Comte; “and you should be proud of your steady nerves and clear conscience, my dear. Not many of us are able to sleep so peacefully in the face of danger.” “Danger?” she repeated, and looked about her. “Has it come, then?” “Oh, not a pressing danger,” he assured her. “Still, we must devise some means of escape before it becomes so. We shall have to take the light, I fear.” “Do so,” said madame promptly. “Charlotte and I will ascend to the platform.” “It is not a pleasant sight that you will see,” said M. le Comte, “nor pleasant words that you will hear----” “We are not children,” broke in madame. “Come, Charlotte.” M. le Comte lighted them up the stair and then turned back to me. “It is evident there is no rope here,” he said, holding the candle above his head and looking about the apartment. “The old furnishings hang together better than one would think,” he added. It was not until then--so occupied had my mind been with other matters--that I perceived with what sumptuousness the place was fitted up. The tapestries were faded and dusty, the coverings of the furniture moth-eaten and decayed, and the room itself cobwebbed and moldy--but it was impressive, nevertheless. It was of good size, octagonal, conforming in shape to the tower, and in four of the sides small, shuttered windows were set. Tapestries and furniture alike had evidently been of the most costly and elegant description. “This was the boudoir of the fair Gabrielle,” observed M. le Comte, looking about him with a smile. “It has been years since I set foot here and I had forgotten how it looked. You will see that with my ancestor it was a real passion; he did not spare himself. In fact I should hate to confess how much, first and last, she cost his family. Below is her bedchamber.”