She shook her head.
“There was no companion,” she faltered. “I thought it sounded better to speak of her. I had her place laid at table, but she never even existed.”
Peter tore off his coat.
“There are the others in the room!” he exclaimed. “We must go back.”
Sogrange caught him by the shoulder and pointed to a shadowy group some distance away.
“We are all out but Bernadine,” he said. “For him were is no hope. Quick!”
They sprang back only just in time. The outside wall of the house fell with a terrible crash. The room which they had quitted was blotted now out of existence. From right and left, in all directions along the country road, came the flashing of lights and little knots of hurrying people.
“It is the end!” Peter muttered. “Yesterday I should have regretted the passing of a brave enemy. To-day I hail with joy the death of a brute.”
The Baroness, who had been sitting upon a garden seat, sobbing, came softly up to them. She laid her fingers upon Peter’s arm imploringly.
“You will not leave me friendless?” she begged. “The papers I promised you are destroyed, but many of his secrets are here.”