"Sir Percy," she said impulsively, "Heaven knows you have been at pains to make the task, which I had set to myself, difficult to accomplish. You spoke of my mood just now; well! we will call it that, if you will. I wished to speak to you. . .because. . .because Iwas in trouble. . .and had need. . .of your sympathy.""It is yours to command, Madame."
"How cold you are!" she sighed. "Faith! I can scarce believe that but a few months ago one tear in my eye had set you well-nigh crazy. Now I come to you. . .with a half-broken heart. . .and. . .
and. . ."
"I pray you, Madame," he said, whilst his voice shook almost as much as hers, "in what way can I serve you?""Percy!--Armand is in deadly danger. A letter of his. . .
rash, impetuous, as were all his actions, and written to Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, has fallen into the hands of a fanatic. Armand is hopelessly compromised. . .to-morrow, perhaps he will be arrested. . .
after that the guillotine. . .unless. . .oh! it is horrible!". . .
