“DUCHESS DE GRAMMONT.”
Balsamo’s forehead had cleared as the clairvoyante proceeded. “A curious document,” he commented, “which would be paid for dearly. How can they write such damning things? It is always women who ruin superior men. This Choiseul could not be overthrown by an army of enemies or a multitude of intrigues, and lo! the breath of a woman crushes him while caressing. If we have a heart, and a sensitive cord in that heart, we are lost.”
So saying he looked tenderly towards Lorenza who palpitated under his regard.
“Is what I think true?” he asked her.
“No,” she answered, ardently; “You see that I love you too well to destroy you as a senseless and heartless woman would do.”
Alas! in her mesmeric trance she spoke and felt just the contrary to what swayed her in her waking mood.
He let the arms of his enchantress interlace him till the warning bell of Fritz sounded twice.
“Two visits,” he interpreted.
A violent peal finished the telegraphed phrase.
Disengaging himself from Lorenza’s clasp, Balsamo left the room, the woman being still in the magnetic sleep. On the way he met the courier.