And she looked round to see where she could conceal the wounded man.
"A sword! a dagger!" muttered La Mole.
"To defend yourself—useless! Did you not hear? There are twelve of them, and you are alone."
"Not to defend myself, but that I may not fall alive into their hands."
"No, no!" said Marguerite. "No, I will save you. Ah! this cabinet! Come! come."
La Mole made an effort, and, supported by Marguerite, dragged himself to the cabinet. Marguerite locked the door upon him, and hid the key in her alms-purse.
"Not a cry, not a groan, not a sigh," whispered she, through the panelling, "and you are saved."
Then hastily throwing a night-robe over her shoulders, she opened the door for her friend, who tenderly embraced her.
"Ah!" cried Madame Nevers, "then nothing has happened to you, madame!"
"No, nothing at all," replied Marguerite, wrapping the mantle still more closely round her to conceal the spots of blood on her peignoir.