"I can," the girl said with a little tired smile that Ste. Marie did not understand. "I can tell. I can see all the to-morrows—a long, long row of them. I know just what they're going to be like—to the very end."
But the man rose to his feet and looked down upon her as she sat before him. And he shook his head.
"You are mistaken," he said. "Pardon me, but you are mistaken. No one can see to-morrow—or the end of anything. The end may surprise you very much."
"I wish it would!" cried Mlle. O'Hara. "Oh, I wish it would!"
CHAPTER XXIV
THE JOINT IN THE ARMOUR
Ste. Marie put down a book as O'Hara came into the room and rose to meet his visitor.
"I'm compelled," said the Irishman, "to put you on your honour to-day if you are to go out as usual. Michel has been sent on an errand, and I am busy with letters. I shall have to put you on your honour not to make any effort to escape. Is that agreed to? I shall trust you altogether. You could manage to scramble over the wall somehow, I suppose, and get clean away; but I think you won't try it if you give your word."
"I give my word gladly," said Ste. Marie. "And thanks very much. You've been uncommonly kind to me here. I—regret more than I can say that we—that we find ourselves on opposite sides, as it were. I wish we were fighting for the same cause."
The Irishman looked at the younger man sharply for an instant, and he made as if he would speak, but seemed to think better of it. In the end he said—