Clara d'Ische certainly looked dazzling, and her dress was magnificent; yet I gazed at her coldly, for I remembered, that with all her powerful interest she had allowed me to pine a prisoner for months in the Bastille.
'Alas! M. Arthur, have you nothing to say to me?'
'Yes, madame—this visit is most welcome—for save the voice of honest Martin my gaoler, no other has broken the solitude of this chamber for months.'
'Poor Monsieur Blane!' said the soft voice of Nicola.
'You knew that I was here, I presume, Madame la Comtesse?' said I, with some asperity.
'I knew that you were arrested—'
'Indeed—I thought so.'
'Arrested,' she continued, her hazel eyes flashing, 'when coming from the house of the base courtesan De l'Orme, in the Rue de St. Jacques.'
'I merely visited Mademoiselle de l'Orme to deliver six letters from the camp. On my honour I had no other purpose.'
'Keep your own secrets, Monsieur, they are nothing to me. I might have had you released within a week, had I chosen.'