With a mighty wrench Claude pulled himself free, overbalancing his cousin, who fell heavily to the floor. Claude had the pistol in his hand. The valet had not appeared. For just the shade of an instant de Mailly hesitated.
"Claude!" came a tremulous, quivering voice from the doorway.
The weapon clattered to the floor. Claude held out both arms, and Deborah, dazed, weary, utterly happy, went into them and was clasped close to his heart.
"Claude—we must go away," she whispered, her lips close to his ear.
"We will go,"
"Where—where—Claude?"
"I have no longer a country, my wife. But I know that which is there for us over the sea—that wherein I found you first."
Deborah gave a little sob of relief; and, as her lips met those of her husband, Henri de Mailly, who had kept him for her, sharply turned away.