‘No! no! no! They meant to hinder your flight, but—-’
‘They knew of it?’ cried Eustacie, sitting up suddenly. ‘Then you told them. Go—go; let me never see you more! You have been his death!’
‘Listen! I am sure he lives! What! would they injure one whom my father loved? I heard my father say he would not have him hurt. Depend upon it, he is safe on his way to England.’
Eustacie gave a short but frightful hysterical laugh, and pointed to Veronique. ‘She saw it,’ she said; ‘ask her.’
‘Saw what?’ said Diane, turning fiercely on Veronique. ‘What vile deceit have you half killed your lady with?’
‘Alas! Mademoiselle, I did but tell her what I had seen,’ sighed Veronique, trembling.
‘Tell me!’ said Diane, passionately.
‘Yes, everything,’ said Eustacie, sitting up.
‘Ah! Mademoiselle, it will make you ill again.’
‘I WILL be ill—I WILL die! Heaven’s slaying is better than man’s. Tell her how you saw Narcisse.’