It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered.
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