she was crouching down, with fierce glittering eyes and panting
breath, like a wild animal ready to spring.

'Madame has heard,' said Martin, under his breath.

'If I have heard! Oh that I were a man, to slay them where they
stood! Martin, Martin! you will not betray me. Some day WE will
reward you.'

'Madame need not have said THAT to me,' said Martin, rather hurt.
'I am only thinking what she can do. Alas! I fear that she must
remain in this covert till it is dark, for these men's eyes are all
on the alert. At dark, I or Lucette will come and find a shelter
for her for the night.'

Long, long, then, did Eustacie sit, muffled in her gray cloak,
shrinking together to shelter herself from the sunset chill of
early spring, but shuddering more with horror than with cold as the
cruel cold-blooded words she had heard recurred to her, and feeling
as if she were fast within a net, every outlet guarded against her,
and search everywhere; yet still with the indomitable determination
to dare and suffer to the utmost ere that which was dearer than her
own life should come into peril from her enemies.

The twilight closed in, the stars came out, sounds of life died
away, and still she sat on, becoming almost torpid in the cold
darkness, until at length she heard the low call of Lucette,
'MADAME! AH!_la pauvre Madame_.' She started up, so stiff that
she could hardly more, and only guided by the voice to feel her way
through the hedgerow in the right direction. Another moment, and