As she spoke I could see the secret broodings of years, the bitter resentments crushed down in her silent soul, rising suddenly to flush her dark cheeks and to gleam in her splendid eyes.  I realised at that moment that in that tall slim figure there dwelt an unconquerable spirit.

’You must think that I speak very freely to you, since I have only known you a few hours, Cousin Louis,’ said she.

‘To whom should you speak freely if not to your own relative?’

’It is true; and yet I never expected that I should be on such terms with you.  I looked forward to your coming with dread and sorrow.  No doubt I showed something of my feelings when my father brought you in.’

‘Indeed you did,’ I answered.  ’I feared that my presence was unwelcome to you.’

‘Most unwelcome, both for your own sake and for mine,’ said she.  ’For your sake because I suspected, as I have told you, that my father’s intentions might be unfriendly.  For mine—­’

‘Why for yours?’ I asked in surprise, for she had stopped in embarrassment.

’You have told me that your heart is another’s.  I may tell you that my hand is also promised, and that my love has gone with it.’

‘May all happiness attend it!’ said I.  ’But why should this make my coming unwelcome?’

‘That thick English air has dimmed your wits, cousin,’ said she, shaking her stately head at me.  ’But I can speak freely now that I know that this plan would be as hateful to you as to me.  You must know, then, that if my father could have married us he would have united all claims to the succession of Grosbois.  Then, come what might—­Bourbon or Buonaparte—­nothing could shake his position.’

I thought of the solicitude which he had shown over my toilet in the morning, his anxiety that I should make a favourable impression, his displeasure when she had been cold to me, and the smile upon his face when he had seen us hand in hand.

‘I believe you are right!’ I cried.

‘Right!  Of course I am right!  Look at him watching us now.’

We were walking on the edge of the dried moat, and as I looked up there, sure enough, was the little yellow face toned towards us in the angle of one of the windows.  Seeing that I was watching him, he rose and waved his hand merrily.

‘Now you know why he saved your life—­since you say that he saved it,’ said she.  ’It would suit his plans best that you should marry his daughter, and so he wished you to live.  But when once he understands that that is impossible, why then, my poor Cousin Louis, his only way of guarding against the return of the de Lavals must lie in ensuring that there are none to return.’

It was those words of hers, coupled with that furtive yellow face still lurking at the window, which made me realise the imminence of my danger.  No one in France had any reason to take an interest in me.  If I were to pass away there was no one who could make inquiry—­I was absolutely in his power.  My memory told me what a ruthless and dangerous man it was with whom I had to deal.