At Close Quarters

Fear leapt into Mademoiselle's eyes, but she commanded herself. She
signed to Madame Carlat to be silent, and they listened, gazing at one
another, hoping against hope that the woman was mistaken. A long moment
they waited, and some were beginning to breathe again, when the strident
tones of Count Hannibal's voice rolled up the staircase, and put an end
to doubt. Mademoiselle grasped the table and stood supporting herself by
it.

"What are we to do?" she muttered. "What are we to do?" and she turned
distractedly towards the women. The courage which had supported her in
her lover's absence had abandoned her now. "If he finds him here I am
lost! I am lost!"

"He will not know me," Tignonville muttered. But he spoke uncertainly;
and his gaze, shifting hither and thither, belied the boldness of his
words.

Madame Carlat's eyes flew round the room; on her for once the burden
seemed to rest. Alas! the room had no second door, and the windows
looked on a courtyard guarded by Tavannes' people. And even now Count
Hannibal's step rang on the stair! his hand was almost on the latch. The
woman wrung her hands; then, a thought striking her, she darted to a
corner where Mademoiselle's robes hung on pegs against the wall.

"Here!" she cried, raising them. "Behind these! He may not be seen
here! Quick, Monsieur, quick! Hide yourself!"

It was a forlorn hope--the suggestion of one who had not thought out the
position; and, whatever its promise, Mademoiselle's pride revolted
against it.