"Name of a name!" she muttered as she shuffled back to the vestibule. "If they should find him here!" Citoyenne Cabarrus had not moved. Her eyes, dilated with terror, mutely questioned the old woman as the latter made ready to admit the visitor. Pepita gave reply as best she could, by silent gestures, indicating the passage and the action of turning a key in the lock. Her wrinkled old lips hardly stirred, and then only in order to murmur quickly and with a sudden assumption of authority: "Self-possession, my cabbage, or you'll endanger yourself and us all!" Theresia pulled herself together. Obviously, the old woman's warning was not to be ignored, nor had it been given a moment too soon. Outside, the visitor had renewed his impatient rat-tat against the door. The eyes of mistress and maid met for one brief second. Theresia was rapidly regaining her presence of mind; whereupon Pepita smoothed out her apron, readjusted her cap, and went to open the door, whilst Theresia said in a firm voice, loudly enough for the new visitor to hear: "One of my guests, at last! Open quickly, Pepita!" CHAPTER IX A HIDEOUS, FEARFUL HOUR §1 Young man--tall, spare, with sallow skin and shifty, restless eyes--pushed unceremoniously past the old servant, threw his hat and cane down on the nearest chair, and hurrying across the vestibule, entered the salon where the beautiful Spaniard, a picture of serene indifference, sat ready to receive him. She had chosen for the setting of this scene, a small settee covered in old rose brocade. On this she half sat, half reclined, with an open book in her hand, her elbow resting on the frame of the settee, her cheek leaning against her hand. Immediately behind her, the light from an oil lamp tempered by a shade of rose-coloured silk, outlined with a brilliant, glowing pencil the contour of her small head, one exquisite shoulder, and the mass of her raven hair, whilst it accentuated the cool half-tones on her diaphanous gown, on the round bare arms and bust, the tiny sandalled feet and cross-gartered legs. A picture in truth to dazzle the eyes of any man! Tallien should have been at her feet in an instant. The fact that he paused in the doorway bore witness to the unruly thoughts that ran riot in his brain. "Ah, citizen Tallien!" the fair Theresia exclaimed with a perfect assumption of sang-froid. "You are the first to arrive, and are indeed welcome; for I was nearly swooning with ennui. Well!" she added, with a provocative smile, and extended a gracious arm in his direction. "Are you not going to kiss my hand?" "I heard a voice," was all the response which he gave to this seductive invitation. "A man's voice. Whose was it?" She raised a pair of delicately pencilled eyebrows. Her eyes became as round and as innocent-looking as a child's.