As she took my hand so confidingly and held it for a moment in her own, I felt that I was for Mme. Edith with all my heart and soul and I assured her that she might rely upon my devotion. We murmured a few words of trust and eternal fidelity to each other in low voices while there in the corridor we could see, passing back and forth, the dark forms of the emissaries of justice, now preceded, now followed by Rouletabille and M. Darzac. Rouletabille never failed to cast a glance in our direction every time he had the opportunity. The window remained open. “Ah, he is watching us!” exclaimed Mme. Edith. “Why is that, I wonder? Probably we are in his way and M. Darzac’s when we remain here. But, whatever may happen, we shall not stir, shall we, M. Sainclair?” “You ought to be grateful to Rouletabille,” I ventured to remind her; “for his intervention and his silence relative to the ‘oldest knife known to the human race.’ If the officers had learned that this stone dagger belonged to your uncle, Bob, what could have hindered them from placing him under arrest? Or if they knew that Bernier in dying had accused Larsan of his murder, the story of the accident would have found very little credence.” I placed an emphasis upon these last words. “Oh!” she cried, bitterly. “Your friend has as many good reasons to keep silence as I have! And I dread only one thing, M. Sainclair--I dread only one thing!” “And what is that?” She arose, her eyes shining with fever. “I fear lest he has saved my uncle from the authorities only to ruin him more completely.” “How can you think such a thing for a moment?” I asked her, convinced that her fears were robbing her of her senses. “I am sure that I could read some such plan in the eyes of your friend a little while ago. If I were sure that I were right, I would rather hand my uncle over to the mercies of the authorities!” I managed to quiet her a little and to make her cast aside such an impossible supposition, and, at length, she said: “At all events, it is necessary to be ready for anything, and I know how to defend him so long as I draw breath.” And she showed me a tiny revolver which was hidden in her gown. “Ah!” she cried again. “Why is Prince Galitch not here?” “Again?” I exclaimed, angrily. “Is it actual truth that you are ready to defend me?” she demanded, turning her beautiful eyes full upon my own. “I am ready.” “Against the whole world?” I hesitated. She repeated the words again: “Against the whole world?” “Yes.” “Against your friend even?” “If it should be necessary,” I answered with a sigh, passing my hand across my forehead. “Very well: I believe you!” she answered. “In that case, I will leave you here for a few minutes. You will guard this door _for me_!” And she pointed to the door behind which Old Bob was resting. Then she ran out of the room. Where was she going? She confessed to me later. She was going to look for the Prince Galitch! Oh, woman, woman!