Sir Charles Venner uttered a low, cynical little laugh. "Quite a meeting of the clans!" he remarked. "But come, Hume, I am certain you are hungry."

Leaning heavily on his arm, I staggered to the table and sank into a chair.

"Marion!" I gasped, looking at her straight and full.

Very slowly she raised her eyes, and returned my glance with a look of cold disdain.

I thought her a thief and a traitress, and yet my eyes fell before her gaze.

"Will you try some oatmeal, Hume?" asked Sir Charles Venner, who had taken the head of the table.

"No, thank you."

"Then, some ham and eggs?"

"Please."

Beudant entered the room. "The grave is dug, master," he announced.

I looked at Sir Charles. He was biting his under lip, and curiously regarding me.

"Whose?" I demanded.

"Yours and Lady Dagmar's!" he replied with a sneer.

I looked at Marion. She was calmly eating her breakfast.

"This is some ghastly joke!" I cried.

Marion glanced up and smiled. "Say cynical, monsieur," she murmured quietly. "My good friend, Sir Charles Venner, persists in believing that we love each other--you and I--in spite of the fact that scarcely a month ago I deserted you in order to marry Sir William Dagmar."

"On his death-bed, madame!" cut in Sir Charles, in tones of ice. "You forget that you are now a rich young widow."

"Well, sir?"

"And that you have steadily refused to account to me for his money, which should have been placed, long ere this, at the disposal of our order."

"Sir William Dagmar bound me with an oath as he lay dying----"

"You have told me that story before," interrupted Sir Charles. Marion shrugged her shoulders, and put into her mouth a morsel of bread.

"Go on someone!" I cried impatiently. "See! I am utterly in your power.

Why not enlighten me? Surely you are not afraid!"

Beudant placed beside my plate a cup of coffee.

Sir Charles coughed behind his hand. "I am only afraid that your appet.i.te may be spoiled," he observed.

"Not at all," I retorted. "Watch me!" I began to eat, for in truth I was very hungry.

"We shall see," he rejoined. "You have a nerve, I know, but keep on eating while I talk--if you can!"

I nodded.

"Jussieu was released last evening by a friend of yours, a little man named Du Gazet, who induced the manager of your hotel to break into your room."

"Well?" I gasped.

Sir Charles laughed. "Jussieu is here," he said. "He arrived two hours ago, and we know now that you have no connection with the police. We were fools indeed to allow you to frighten us away from the Rue D'Enghien. But then everything always happens for the best. We could hardly have disposed of you properly in the city, unless we prosecuted you for burglary, and such a course would not have suited me."

"Do you intend to kill me?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"After breakfast."

"In broad daylight?" I asked, much astonished.

"Ah! Mr. Hume," he replied, "I read your mind. But this chateau is placed in a wood, and is distant seven miles from the nearest human habitation, and as for the rest I had as lief destroy an enemy by day as by night."

"Then I have not long to live?"

"As one measures time."

"And--Mar--Lady Dagmar?"

"You will die together. In each other's arms, if you choose to be romantic."

I turned to Marion, to find her eyes fixed upon my face. We gazed at each other for a long silent minute, and then, overcome by some strange emotion, I muttered brokenly, "Is it possible, after all, that I have wronged you?"

"You have," she replied.

"Can you forgive me?" I asked hoa.r.s.ely.

"It is late to make amends."

"I was mad to doubt you. But, G.o.d knows, I suffered for it, Marion."

"Venner!" said Dr. Fulton suddenly, "can I have a word with you?"

"Certainly. Vernet, Beudant, I leave our guests to you."

Sir Charles got up from the table and walked to the farther end of the room.

"They will not kill you, Marion?" I asked in English. "Surely they are jesting."