And across the shining floor came the young Austrian, her immature figure glittering in jewelled brocade and tense with the effort she was making.
“Madame,” she said in a stifled voice, “there are a number of people at Versailles to-day—”
Then her voice broke, her breast heaved, she flushed crimson and hurried away, bursting into tears.
Madame du Barry thought that she was following her, saying–
“Do not be distressed, Madame. I am sorry they have made you speak to me. I shall not do you any harm.”
But the Princess would not turn, but hastened along the gleaming floor.
She woke with a start and a horrid leap of her heart; the room was quite dark but cut by the yellow light coming through the open door; she could see the shape of a man looking in.
“Six o’clock to-morrow, citizeness,” he said in a tired voice, and closed the door.
She tried to concentrate her mind on what he had said. What was it that was to happen at six o’clock to-morrow?