"Nay, never, never!" Bevill whispered back. "If I have met my fate"--while, as he spoke, he heard a moan, which was in truth a gasp, from Sylvia's lips, and felt her hand tighten convulsively on his--"I have brought it on myself; I can meet it boldly. I set myself to do this thing, looking for a reward, though never dreaming how fair a reward might at last be mine," he added, with a glance beyond the Comtesse to where Sylvia was. "If I have lost shall I not pay the stake, shall I not look ill-fortune bravely in the face?" "How has this disaster come about?" Sylvia asked, speaking for the first time. "What precaution has been omitted? Or is it----?" "Treachery!" the Comtesse said. "Ay! that way the disaster has come. Say, is it not so?" "I fear, indeed, it is," Bevill replied. "Listen. Someone, either Francbois or another, was in the garden of the Weiss Haus last night behind the arbour, and overheard our plans. I have been denounced, our plans have been revealed, by the eavesdropper." "Maledictions on him!" the Comtesse whispered through her white teeth, while now her eyes were worthy rivals in splendour of Sylvia's own as they sparkled in the light cast by a lamp suspended across the narrow street. "May vengeance confound him, whoe'er he is; and if 'tis Francbois, let him beware! I hold him in my hand. If--if--you are--are----" "Cease in mercy's sake!" Sylvia exclaimed. "Ah, say it not. It cannot--cannot--be." "If you are betrayed by him, you shall be dearly avenged," the Comtesse continued. "Yet, see, that officer gives some order to the men by his side. Quick--what will you do? What?" "Proclaim myself an Englishman, yet no spy. Speak truthfully, and acknowledge that I came here to save my countrywoman----" "Madame," the officer exclaimed now as, after turning his horse, he rode back to the carriage, "the clocks are striking the last quarter. If madame and her friends are not at the gate in ten minutes there will be little hope of their passing through it to-night. Even provided," he added below his breath, "that the papers are in order." For this well-bred young dragoon had a full certainty that he had found the quarry which he, as well as two or three other small parties of soldiers, had been sent out that night to waylay if possible. Yet he had caught a glimpse of Sylvia in the depths of the carriage and more than a glimpse of the aristocratic though sad features of the Comtesse, and he regretted that it had fallen to his lot to light on those who were sought for. As for Bevill, he recognised that he was one of his own class--a gentleman and, by his appearance, perhaps a soldier; but he believed him to be what he had been described as being, a spy, a thing accursed in every land, and for him the young officer felt little sympathy. "It must be so," Madame de Valorme said now. "Monsieur," speaking as calmly to Bevill as she was able to do, "pray bid Joseph to proceed."