The policeman bowed.

"Ah, mon Dieu! will he take us out into the snow to-night? I cannot go! I should freeze to death! I should perish in the storm! It would be murder!" cried Faustina, wringing her hands.

"You see it would be barbarous to drag a lady out in this horrible weather. Can you not leave her here for the night? and if you consider yourself responsible for her safe-keeping, can you not remain and guard her?" inquired his lordship, speaking, however, quite as much, or even more, for himself than for Faustina; for he was well aware that, if she were left, he would be also left.

"My lord, it is impossible. I could not be answerable for my prisoner's safety if she were permitted to remain here all night, no matter how well guarded she might be. It was only a few weeks ago that a prisoner--a young girl she was, charged with poisoning-- persuaded me to hold her in custody through the night in her own chamber. I did so, placing a policeman on guard on the outside of each door. And yet, during the night she succeeded in making her escape down a secret staircase and through a subterranean passage, and got clear off. It was in just such an ancient place as this, my lord. I came near losing my office by it; and I made a resolution then never to trust a prisoner of mine out of my sight until I got him or her, as the case might be, safe under lock and key in my station house."

"But, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! what will become of me?" wailed Faustina.

"It will kill her. She is very tender," urged Lord Vincent.

"Your lordship may order your own close carriage for her use. She may wrap up in all her furs. And though she may still suffer a good deal from the long, cold ride, she will not freeze, I assure you,"

said McRae.

"Ah, but what do you take me for at all? I say that I did not kill the black negro woman; Lord Vincent did it."

"Madam, neither you nor my lord are accused of murder," said McRae.

"Ah! what, then, do you accuse us of?"

"You will hear at the magistrate's office, madam," said the policeman, losing patience.

"I say, what--whatever it was, Lord Vincent did it!"

"Faustina, be silent! If no remnant of good faith leads you to spare me, spare yourself at least," said the viscount.

"Will you order your carriage?" said McRae.

"Cuthbert, go down and have the close carriage brought around. Put the leopard skins inside and bottles of hot water," ordered the viscount.

"Madam, you had better summon your maid and have your wrappings brought to you, and anything else you may wish to take with you,"

advised McRae.

"Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! must I leave this beautiful place to go to a horrid prison. Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" wept Faustina, wringing her hands.

"Shall I ring for your maid?" inquired McRae.

"No, you monster!" shrieked Faustina. "Do you think I want Desiree, whose ears I boxed this morning, to come here to see me marched off to prison? She would be glad, the beast! she would laugh in her sleeve, the wretch! Madame MacDonald, will you get my bonnet and sables?" she said, turning to her companion.

"Yes, my dear, suffering angel, I will do all that you wish me to do. Ah! you remind me of your countrywoman, Queen Marie Antoinette, when she was dragged from the luxurious Tuileries to the dreary temple," whined sympathizing Complacency.

"Good Heaven! woman, do not speak of her. She was guillotined!"

cried Faustina, with a shiver of terror.

"But you shall not be, my dear; you shall come out clear; and they who have accused you shall be made ashamed," said Mrs. MacDonald, as she passed into Faustina's dressing room.

Presently she came forth, bearing a quilted silk bonnet, a velvet sack, a sable cloak, a muff and cuffs, and warm gloves and fur-lined boots, and what not; all of which she helped Faustina to put on.

While she was kneeling on the floor and putting on the beauty's boots she said:

"I think some of these men might have the modesty to turn their backs, if they canna leave the room. Ah, my poor dear! now you remind me of my own countrywoman, poor Queen Mary Stuart, when she complained on the scaffold of having to undress before so many men!

Now you have to dress before so many."

"Oh, God, you will be the death of me, with your guillotined women!

You turn my flesh to jelly, and my bones to gristle, and my heart to water!" cried Faustina, with a dreadful shudder, as she rose to her feet, quite ready, as far as dress was concerned, for her journey.

"Will my poor, dear, suffering angel have anything else?" said Mrs.

MacDonald.

"Yes. Oh, dear, that I should have to leave this sweet place for a nasty prison! Yes, you may get together all that fruit and nuts and cake and wine, and don't forget the bonbons, and have them put in the carriage, for I don't believe I could get such things in the horrid prison! And, stay--put me a white wrapper and a lace cap in my little night-bag; and stop---put that last novel of Paul de Kock in also. I will be as comfortable as I can make myself in that beast of a place."

"Blessed angel! what a mind you have; what philosophy; what fortitude! You now remind me of your illustrious compatriot, Madame Roland, who, when dragged from her elegant home to the dreadful prison of the Conciergerie, and knowing that in a few days she must be dragged from that to the scaffold, yet sent for her books, her music, her birds, and her flowers, that she might make the most of the time left," said Mrs. MacDonald, as she zealously gathered up the desired articles.

"Silence! I shall dash my brains out if you speak to me of another headless woman!" shrieked Faustina, stopping both her ears.

Old Cuthbert put his head in to say that the carriage was ready.

Lord Vincent ordered him to load himself with the luxuries that had been provided for Faustina and put them into the carriage, and then in returning to fetch him his overshoes, cloak, and hat. All of these orders were duly obeyed.

When all was ready Lord Vincent shook hands with Mrs. MacDonald was saying:

"We must all bow to the law, madam; but this is only a passing cloud. We shall be liberated soon. And I hope we shall find you here when we return."

"Ye may be sure of that, my lord. And may Heaven grant you a speedy deliverance," she answered.

Faustina next came up to bid her good-by.

"Good-by! Good-by! my sweet, suffering angel. Bear up under your afflictions; fortify your mind by thinking of the martyred queens and heroines who have preceded you," said Mrs. MacDonald, weeping as she embraced Faustina.

"Good Heaven, I shall think of none of them! I shall think only of myself and my deliverance!" said Faustina, breaking from her.

They went downstairs, marshaled by the policemen. They entered the carriage, two policemen riding inside with them, and one on the box beside the coachman. And thus they commenced their stormy night journey.

CHAPTER XLII.

A BITTER NIGHT.

St. Agnes' Eve--ah, bitter chill it was!

The owl, for all his feathers, was acold, The hare limped trembling thro' the frozen grass; And silent was the flock in woolly fold!

--_Keats_.

A freezing night. Faustina shook as with an ague-fit, and her teeth chattered like a pair of castanets, as she crouched down in one corner of the back seat and huddled all her wrappings close about her. But the cold still seemed to penetrate through all her furs and velvets and woolens and enter the very marrow of her bones.

Beside her sat the viscount, silent, grim, and still, as though he were congealed to ice. Before her sat the two policemen, well wrapped up in their greatcoats and thick shawls.

All were silent except Faustina. She shook and moaned and chattered incessantly. Such a mere animal was this wretched woman that she was quite absorbed in her present sufferings. While enduring this intense cold she could not look forward to the terrors of the future.