Goaded by circumstances--an irresistible temptation--he had betrayed himself. Well! Why not now as well as later? On the whole, he was rather glad to have been drawn out of his usual caution.

Rising from the cushions to his knees, he pressed another kiss upon her shoulder, and whispered with hot and labouring breath, which seemed to burn the skin--"Gabrielle--my Gabrielle--my own, spite all; it is I who am to teach you the love that maddens and entrances."

Bewildered by the suddenness of the act, crimson to the roots of her fair hair, Gabrielle sank panting, speechless, against the carven oak-panel--till, feeling a hand gliding round her waist, she writhed out of the embrace, and, revolted, half-choked, with swimming head, staggered to her feet.

"You too!" she faltered faintly, glancing from one brother to the other in fear. "Oh, Pharamond! You must be insane! You did not know what you were doing!"

"Did I not? Hush. Why wake that idiot?" whispered the abbé, striving, as he clung, to wreathe again about her arm his trembling sinuous fingers. "I know right well what I have done, and glory in it since I have made you my own. On the first evening that I set eyes on your lustrous beauty, I swore that some day you should be mine. That day is come; you are hemmed round. Others want you, but not so much as I; and when I say I will, all must give way to that! I hold you in my hand as I might a fluttering bird just caught. Aha! How the poor heart beats. Be calm; oh, heart of mine! I can be patient and wait until the bird shall cease to struggle, and will like you all the better for the fluttering!"

Gabrielle's blood chilled in growing horror, and she endeavoured to recoil, as he approached. Now she understood the strange expression that he wore sometimes. Her chosen counsellor had been slowly winding a limed thread about her limbs which should hold her fast--a helpless victim to his unhallowed passions--ere she knew that she was bound. Fool! Vain, wicked fool! Could one so astute have so completely missed the key to the situation? She adored the husband who, in her ignorance and inexperience, she deemed a demigod. To her he was a genius of whom she was unworthy. Here was her shield of unsullied steel, and brilliant, cynical Pharamond, who saw through and despised Clovis, guessed nothing of its existence.

Then, as thought swiftly followed thought in tumultuous wave, it fell on her with a numb dead weight of misgiving, how much this discovery might mean to her. What would she do without the abbé's help? With terror, she realized now as she looked steadily at him, that this was no wild impulse borne of chance, to be condoned and forgotten like that of the chevalier, but the result of a deep-laid scheme. She could see before her an obstinate man whose will was iron and scruples nil, who had resolved some day to snatch what she had not to give. To whom in so strange an extremity could she turn for help? Wringing her hands together, she moaned out, "I am alone, without a friend!"

"Not so!" the abbé whispered, edging nearer. "Trust to me in this as in other matters, for I know best, and you will thank me--oh, how much. Are not you to learn and I to teach? I hold the clue of the mystery, which is still veiled to you. Learn love from me--burning, devouring love; and for the first time you will know happiness."

"Another step and I will wake the chevalier!" Gabrielle faltered, wrapping round her a poor tattered shred of shivering dignity.

Pharamond laughed his long sweet laugh of rippling music, which now caused Gabrielle to shudder.