"Pray, do you count this day as nothing?" asked the viscountess, in a soul-thrilling tone. "It is the only day that I am sure that I have lived since I came into the world." "Then you see that you are ungrateful." "Grant me a second day like this one--" "I cannot; I must leave Chantilly to-night." "I don't ask it for to-morrow, nor for the day after to-morrow; I simply ask you for some day in the future. Select whatever time you choose, whatever place you choose, but give me a certainty to live upon; I should suffer too much if I had naught but a hope." "Where shall you go upon leaving me?" "To Paris, to report upon the success of my mission." "And then?" "To the Bastille, perhaps." "But assuming that you do not go there?" "I shall return to Libourne, where my regiment should be." "And I to Bordeaux, where I expect to find Madame la Princesse. Do you know any out-of-the-way village on the road from Bordeaux to Libourne?" "I know one, the memory of which is almost as dear to me as that of Chantilly." "Jaulnay?" queried the viscountess, with a smile. "Jaulnay," echoed Canolles. "Very well; I shall need four days to go to Jaulnay; it is now Tuesday. I will stop there all day on Sunday." "Oh! thanks, thanks!" cried Canolles, pressing against his lips a hand which Madame de Cambes had not the courage to withdraw. "Now," said she, after a moment's pause, "we must play out our little comedy to the end." "Ah, yes, madame; the comedy which is to cover me with ridicule in the eyes of all Prance. But I have nothing to say; it was I who would have it so, it was I who--I cannot say selected the part that I play therein--but arranged the catastrophe which brings it to a close." Madame de Cambes lowered her eyes. "Now tell me what I have still to do," said Canolles, coolly; "I await your orders, and am ready for anything." Claire was so deeply moved that Canolles could see the velvet folds of her dress rise and fall with the uneven, hurried beating of her heart. "You are making a very great sacrifice for me, I know; but pray believe me when I say that my gratitude will live forever. Yes, you are about to incur disgrace at court for my sake, and to be severely censured. Monsieur, care nothing for that, I beg you, if it affords you any pleasure to know that you have made me happy." "I will try, madame." "Believe me, baron," continued Madame de Cambes, "the bitter grief which I read upon your face causes me no less bitter remorse. It may be that others would recompense you more fully than I; but, monsieur, a recompense accorded so readily would not worthily pay for your self-sacrifice." As she spoke, Claire hung her head with a sigh. "Is that all you have to say to me?"