She touched her forehead lightly with the tips of her fingers.
Christabel saw the action.
"No, I am not mad, now," she said, "I believe I have been mad, but that is all over. Monsieur de Cazalet, you and my husband are to fight a duel this morning, on Trebarwith sands."
"My dear Mrs. Tregonell, what a strange notion!"
"Don't take the trouble to deny anything. I overheard your conversation yesterday afternoon. I know everything."
"Would it not have been better to keep the knowledge to yourself, and to remember your promise to me, last night?"
"Yes, I remember that promise. I said I would meet you at Bodmin Road, after you had shot my husband."
"There was not a word about shooting your husband."
"No; but the fact was in our minds, all the same—in yours as well as in mine. Only there was one difference between us. You thought that when you had killed Leonard I would run away with you. That was to be your recompense for murder. I meant that you should kill him, but that you should never see my face again. You would have served my purpose—you would have been the instrument of my revenge!"
"Christabel!"