"What do you mean? You're trying to hint at something that I don't
know. What difficulty or trouble could happen to me? Please tell me
just what you mean."
"I'm not hinting at any mystery," said Ste. Marie. "I don't know of
anything that is going to happen to you, but--will you forgive me for
saying it?--your father is, I take it, often exposed to danger of
various sorts. I'm afraid I can't quite express myself, only, if any
trouble should come to you, mademoiselle, will you promise me to go to
Lady Margaret, your aunt, and tell her who you are, and let her care for
you?"
"There was an absolute break," she said. "Complete." But the man shook
his head, saying--
"Lady Margaret won't think of that. She'll think only of you--that she
can mother you, perhaps save you grief--and of herself, that in her old
age she has a daughter. It would make a lonely old woman very happy,
mademoiselle."
The girl bent her head away from him, and Ste. Marie saw, for the first
time since he had known her, tears in her eyes. After a long time she
said--
"I promise then.
"But," she said, "it is very unlikely that it should ever come
about--for more than one reason. Very unlikely."
"Still, mademoiselle," said he, "I am glad you have promised. This is
an uncertain world. One never can tell what will come with the
to-morrows."
"I can," the girl said with a little tired smile that Ste. Marie did not
understand. "I can tell. I can see all the to-morrows--a long, long row
of them. I know just what they're going to be like--to the very end."
But the man rose to his feet and looked down upon her as she sat before
him. And he shook his head.
"You are mistaken," he said. "Pardon me, but you are mistaken. No one
can see to-morrow--or the end of anything. The end may surprise you
very much."
"I wish it would!" cried Mlle. O'Hara. "Oh, I wish it would!"
*CHAPTER XXIV*
*THE JOINT IN THE ARMOUR*
Ste. Marie put down a book as O'Hara came into the room and rose to meet
his visitor.
"I'm compelled," said the Irishman, "to put you on your honour to-day if
you are to go out as usual. Michel has been sent on an errand, and I am
busy with letters. I shall have to put you on your honour not to make
any effort to escape. Is that agreed to? I shall trust you altogether.
You could manage to scramble over the wall somehow, I suppose, and get
clean away; but I think you won't try it if you give your word."
"I give my word gladly," said Ste. Marie. "And thanks very much.
You've been uncommonly kind to me here. I--regret more than I can say
that we--that we find ourselves on opposite sides, as it were. I wish
we were fighting for the same cause."
The Irishman looked at the younger man sharply for an instant, and he
made as if he would speak, but seemed to think better of it. In the end
he said--
"Yes, quite so! Quite so! Of course you understand that any
consideration I have used towards you has been by way of making amends
for--for an unfortunate occurrence."
Ste. Marie laughed.
"The poison!" said he. "Yes, I know. And, of course, I know who was at
the bottom of that. By the way, I met Stewart in the garden the other
day. Did he tell you? He was rather nervous and tried to shoot me, but
he had left his revolver at the house--at least, it wasn't in his pocket
when he reached for it."
O'Hara's hard face twitched suddenly, as if in anger, and he gave an
exclamation under his breath, so the younger man inferred that "old
Charlie" had not spoken of their encounter. And after that the Irishman
once more turned a sharp, frowning glance upon his prisoner as if he
were puzzled about something. But, as before, he stopped short of
speech and at last turned away.
"Just a moment!" said the younger man. He asked--
"Is it fair to inquire how long I may expect to be confined here? I
don't want to presume upon your good nature too far, but if you could
tell me I should be glad to know."