crossed over her face. He felt the lightning-like silence, he knew that she had seen; he struggled to his feet, staring fiercely at her.
That one torturing instant had taken all the colour from her face, but there was a strange brightness in her eyes, a new power in her bearing. She gently forced him into the seat again.
"You are not strong enough, Louis. You must be tranquil."
She turned now to the Governor. He made a sign to his suite, who, bowing, slowly left the room.
"Permit me to welcome you to your native land again, madame," he said. "You have won for it a distinction it could never have earned, and the world gives you many honours."
She was smiling and still, and with one hand clasping her husband's, she said:
"The honour I value most, my native land has given me. I am lady of the Manor here, and wife of the Seigneur Racine!"
Agitated triumph came upon Louis Racine's face, a weird, painful vanity entered into him. He stood up beside his wife, as she turned and looked at him, showing not a sign that what she saw disturbed her.
"It is no mushroom honour to be Seigneur of Pontiac, your Excellency," he said, in a tone that jarred. "The barony is two hundred years old. By rights granted from the crown of France, I am Baron of Pontiac."
"I think England has not yet recognised the title!" said the Governor suggestively, for he was here to make peace, and in the presence of this man, whose mental torture was extreme, he would not allow himself to be irritated.
