In truth he did find everything deserted as the abode of the dead, as he went into the house; while Calais, like a body from which the life-blood is ebbing away, was gathering all her force for a final struggle at the spot where fighting was in progress. Lord Wentworth, gloomy, savage, and in a measure drunken with despair, went directly to the apartments occupied by Madame de Castro. He did not send in his name, as his custom had been, but entered brusquely, like a master, the room where she was sitting with one of the maids who had been furnished her. Without any salutation to the wondering Diane, he said imperiously to the maid,-- "Leave the room at once! The French will be in the city this evening, and I have neither the time nor the power to protect you. Go and find your father; your place is with him. Go at once, and tell the two or three women who are left in the house that I wish them to do the same without loss of time." "But, my Lord--" the maid remonstrated. "Ah!" returned the governor, stamping his foot angrily; "did you not hear what I said? I wish it!" "But, my Lord--" Diane began. "I have said, 'I wish it!' Madame," replied Lord Wentworth, with a gesture of inflexible determination. The maid left the room in terror. "Truly, I should not have known you, my Lord," said Diane, after an agonizing silence. "It is because you have never before seen me in the guise of a vanquished man, Madame," rejoined Lord Wentworth, with a bitter smile. "You have been a farseeing prophet of ruin and disaster for me; and I was in truth an insensate fool not to believe you. I am beaten, absolutely beaten, beyond resource and beyond hope. So you may rejoice." "Is the success of the French at this point really beyond question?" asked Diane, who could with difficulty conceal her pleasure. "How can it be otherwise, Madame? The Nieullay and Risbank forts and the Old Château are in their power. They have the city between three fires, and Calais is theirs beyond cavil. So you may rejoice." "Oh!" Diane rejoined, "with such a foe as you, my Lord, victory is never certain; and in spite of myself,--yes, I confess, and you will understand me,--in spite of myself I still am incredulous." "But Madame," cried Lord Wentworth, "do you not see that I have left the field; that after having taken part in the battle to the very last, I could not make up my mind to witness the final catastrophe, and that is why I am here? Lord Derby will surrender in an hour and a half. In that time, Madame, the French will enter Calais in triumph, and Vicomte d'Exmès with them. So you may rejoice." "You say that in such a strange way, my Lord, that I do not know whether I ought to believe you or not," said Diane, who was beginning to hope nevertheless; so that her expression and her involuntary smile were illumined by the thought of deliverance.