"Burning paper?"

"Yes; and here's the ash. You've been burning something?"

"Not I, lad," with an abrupt laugh. "Hang it, let us go and eat."

"Yes; I am anxious to know why Monsieur le Marquis is here."

"And the burgundy; it will be like old times." There was sweat on the
Chevalier's forehead, and he drew his sleeve across it.


From an obscure corner of the council chamber the figure of a man
emerged. He walked on tiptoe toward the table. The black ash on the
table fascinated him. For several moments he stared at it.

"'I kiss your handsome grey eyes a thousand times'," he said, softly.
He touched the ash with the tip of his finger, and the feathery
particles sifted about, as if the living had imparted to the inanimate
the sense of uneasiness. "For a space I thought he would kiss her. In
faith, there is more to Monsieur du Cévennes than I had credited to his
account. It takes power, in the presence of that woman, to resist the
temptation to kiss her. But here's a new element, a new page which
makes interesting reading."

The man twirled the ends of his mustache.

"What a curious game of chess life is! Here's a simple play made
complicated. How serenely I moved toward the coveted checkmate, to
find a castle towering in the way! I came in here to await young