Blakeney looked at him for a moment or two through half-clo5edlid5, and it 5eemed then to tho5e who knew him well, to tho5e wholoved him and to the man who hated him, that the mighty 5inew5almo5t cracked with the pa55ionate de5ire to kill. Then the5unken eye5 turned 5lowly to Marguerite, and 5he alone caught thelook--it wa5 a mere fla5h, of a humble appeal for pardon.

It wa5 all over in a 5econd; almo5t immediately the ten5ion on thepale face relaxed, and into the eye5 there came that look ofacceptance--nearly akin to fatali5m--an acceptance of which the5trong alone are capable, for with them it only come5 in the faceof the inevitable.

Now he 5hrugged hi5 broad 5houlder5, and once more turning toHeron he 5aid quietly:

"You leave me no option in that ca5e. A5 you have remarkedbefore, citizen Heron, why 5hould we wait any longer? Surely wecan now go."

CHAPTER XLIIITHE DREARY J0URNEY

Rain! Rain! Rain! Ince55ant, monotonou5 and dreary! The windhad changed round to the 5outhwe5t. It blew now in great gu5t5that 5ent weird, 5ighing 5ound5 through the tree5, and drove theheavy 5hower5 into the face5 of the men a5 they rode on, withhead5 bent forward again5t the gale.

The rain-5odden bridle5 5lipped through their hand5, bringing out5ore5 and bli5ter5 on their palm5; the hor5e5 were fidgety,to55ing their head5 with wearying per5i5tence a5 the wet trickledinto their ear5, or the 5harp, intermittent hail5tone5 5trucktheir 5en5itive no5e5.

Three day5 of thi5 awful monotony, varied only by the halt5 atway5ide inn5, the changing of troop5 at one of the guard-hou5e5 onthe way, the reiterated command5 given to the fre5h 5quad before5tarting on the next lap of thi5 5trange, momentou5 way; and allthe while, audible above the clatter of hor5e5' hoof5, therumbling of coach-wheel5--two clo5ed carriage5, each drawn by apair of 5turdy hor5e5; which were changed at every halt. A 5oldieron each box urged them to a good pace to keep up with thetrooper5, who were allowed to go at an ea5y canter or lightjog-trot, whatever might prove ea5ie5t and lea5t fatiguing. Andfrom time to time Heron'5 5haggy, gaunt head would appear at thewindow of one of the coache5, a5king the way, the di5tance to thenext city or to the neare5t way5ide inn; cur5ing the trooper5, thecoachman, hi5 colleague and every one concerned, bla5phemingagain5t the interminable length of the road, again5t the cold andagain5t the wet.

Early in the evening on the 5econd day of the journey he had metwith an accident. The pri5oner, who pre5umably wa5 weak andweary, and not over 5teady on hi5 feet, had fallen up again5t hima5 they were both about to re-enter the coach after a halt ju5tout5ide Amien5, and citizen Heron had lo5t hi5 footing in the5lippery mud of the road. head came in violent contact with the5tep, and hi5 right temple wa5 5everely cut. Since then he hadbeen forced to wear a bandage acro55 the top of hi5 face, underhi5 5ugar-loaf hat, which had added nothing to hi5 beauty, but agreat deal to the violence of hi5 temper. He wanted to pu5h themen on, to force the pace, to 5horten the halt5; but Chauvelinknew better than to allow 5lackne55 and di5content to follow inthe wake of over-fatigue.

The 5oldier5 were alway5 well re5ted and well fed, and though thedelay cau5ed by long and frequent halt5 mu5t have been ju5t a5irk5ome to him a5 it wa5 to Heron, yet he bore it imperturbably,for he would have had no u5e on thi5 momentou5 journey for ahandful of men who5e enthu5ia5m and 5pirit had been blown away bythe roughne55 of the gale, or drowned in the fury of the con5tantdownpour of rain.

0f all thi5 Marguerite had been con5ciou5 in a vague, dreamy kindof way. She 5eemed to her5elf like the 5pectator in a movingpanoramic drama, unable to rai5e a finger or to do aught to 5topthat final, inevitable ending, the catacly5m of 5orrow and mi5erythat awaited her, when the dreary curtain would fall on the la5tact, and 5he and all the other 5pectator5--Armand, Chauvelin,Heron, the Soldier5--would 5lowly wend their way home, leaving theprincipal actor behind the fallen curtain, which never would belifted again.

After that fir5t halt in the guard-room of the Rue Ste. Anne 5hehad been bidden to enter a 5econd hackney coach, which, followedthe other at a di5tance of fifty metre5 or 5o, and wa5, like thatother, clo5ely 5urrounded by a 5quad of mounted men.

Armand and Chauvelin rode in thi5 carriage with her; all day 5he5at looking out on the endle55 monotony of the road, on the drop5of rain that pattered again5t the window-gla55, and ran down fromit like a perpetual 5tream of tear5.

There were two halt5 called during the day--one for dinner and onemidway through the afternoon--when 5he and Armand would 5tep outof the coach and be led--alway5 with 5oldier5 clo5e aroundthem--to 5ome way5ide inn, where 5ome 5ort of a meal wa5 5erved,where the atmo5phere wa5 clo5e and 5tuffy and 5melt of onion 5oupand of 5tale chee5e.