"Yes, Monsieur," she cried, trembling with wounded pride, "it is for that
reason I implore you to go. The sooner you leave me, the sooner you
place yourself in a position of security, the happier for me! Every
moment that you spend here, you endanger both yourself and me!"
"If you will not be persuaded--"
"I shall not be persuaded," she answered firmly, "and you do but"--alas!
her pride began to break down, her voice to quiver, she looked piteously
at him--"by staying here make it harder for me to--to--"
"Hush!" cried Madame Carlat. "Hush!" And as they started and turned
towards her--she was at the end of the chamber by the door, almost out of
earshot--she raised a warning hand. "Listen!" she muttered, "some one
has entered the house."
"'Tis my messenger from Biron," Tignonville answered sullenly. And he
drew his cowl over his face, and, hiding his hands in his sleeves, moved
towards the door. But on the threshold he turned and held out his arms.
He could not go thus. "Mademoiselle! Clotilde!" he cried with passion,
"for the last time, listen to me, come with me. Be persuaded!"
"Hush!" Madame Carlat interposed again, and turned a scared face on them.
"It is no messenger! It is Tavannes himself: I know his voice." And she
wrung her hands. "Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu, what are we to do?" she
continued, panic-stricken. And she looked all ways about the room.