Norbert uttered such a cry of anger, that even Daumon in the passage was startled by it. He placed Diana tenderly in the Counsellor’s arm-chair, saying,—
“No, you shall not kill yourself, nor shall you leave me.”
She smiled faintly, and held out her arms to him. Her magic spells were deftly woven.
“No,” cried he; “the poison which you had intended to use on yourself shall become my weapon of vengeance, and the instrument of punishment of the one who has wronged you.”
And with the gait of a man walking in his sleep, he left the Counsellor’s office.
Hardly had the young man’s footsteps died away, than Daumon entered the room. He had not lost a word or action in the foregoing scene, and he was terribly agitated; and he could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw Diana, whom he had supposed to be lying half-sensible in the arm-chair, standing at the window, gazing after Norbert, as he walked along the road leading from the Counsellor’s cottage.
“Ah! what a woman!” muttered he. “Gracious powers, what a wonderful woman!”
When Diana had lost sight of her lover, she turned round to Daumon. Her face was pale, and her eyelids swollen, but her eyes flashed with the conviction of success.
“To-morrow, Counsellor,” said she, “to-morrow I shall be the Duchess de Champdoce.”
Daumon was so overwhelmed that, accustomed as he was to startling events and underhand trickery, he could find no words to express his feelings.