quick-witted women, and fenced with all the precautions love
could devise? That was the question; and dawn found me still
debating it, still as far as ever from an answer. Anxious and
feverish, I was glad when the light came, and I could get up. I
thought that the fresh air might inspire me, and I was tired of
my stuffy closet. I crept stealthily down the ladder, and
managed to pass unseen through the lower room, in which several
persons were snoring heavily. The outer door was not fastened,
and in a hand-turn I was in the street.

It was still so early that the trees stood up black against the
reddening sky, but the bough upon the post before the door was
growing green, and in a few minutes the grey light would be
everywhere. Already, even in the roadway, there was a glimmering
of it; and as I stood at the corner of the house--where I could
command both the front and the side on which the stable opened
--sniffing the fresh air, and looking for any trace of the
midnight departure, my eyes detected something light-coloured
lying on the ground. It was not more than two or three paces
from me, and I stepped to it and picked it up curiously, hoping
that it might be a note. It was not a note, however, but a tiny
orange-coloured sachet such as women carry in the bosom. It was
full of some faintly-scented powder, and bore on one side the
initial 'E,' worked in white silk; and was altogether a dainty
little toy, such as women love.

Doubtless Madame de Cocheforet had dropped it in the night. I
turned it over and over; and then I put it in my pouch with a
smile, thinking that it might be useful sometime, and in some
way. I had scarcely done this, and turned with the intention of