meeting clashed on the soft air. As they struggled, a voice came ringing through the passages, singing a bar from an opera—
""Oh eager golden day, Oh happy evening hour!
Behold my lover cometh from fields of wrath and hate!
Sheathed is his sword; he cometh to my bower;
In war he findeth honour, and love within the gate."
The voice came nearer and nearer. It pierced the tragic separateness of the scene of blood. It reached the ears of the Seigneur, and a look of pain shot across his face. Fournel was only dimly aware of the voice, for he was hard pressed, and it seemed to come from infinite distances. Presently the voice stopped, and some one tried the door of the room.
It was Madelinette. Astonished at finding it locked, she stood still a moment uncertain what to do. Then the sounds of the struggle within came to her ears. She shook the door, leaned her shoulders against it, and called "Louis! Louis!" Suddenly she darted away, found Havel the faithful servant in the passage, and brought him swiftly to the door. The man sprang upon it, striking with his shoulder. The lock gave, the door flew open, and Madelinette stepped swiftly into the room, in time to see George Fournel sway and fall, his sword rattling on the hard oak floor.
"Oh, what have you done, Louis!" she cried, then added hurriedly to Havel, "Draw the blind there, shut the door, and tell Madame Marie to bring some water quickly!"
The silent servant vanished, and she dropped on her knees beside the bleeding and insensible man, and lifted his head.
