"Oh, make haste!" whispered Rénèe, through strained lips.
Duprès came forward; he was the most composed of the four, though there was terror in his eyes and his hands shook.
"Mademoiselle will not speak?" he said in a low voice, catching hold of Rénèe's sleeve. "A little foolishness, a little indiscretion—Mademoiselle would not make mischief for that?"
"A little foolishness," repeated Anne vaguely. She began to weep. "May I not have my amusements? You were always hard, Rénèe; do not be hard——"
"See," said Duprès, in a quick, eager whisper. "Keep this from the Prince, and I will go away—he will leave Brussels——"
"Make no bargains with me," cried Rénèe passionately, exasperated with disdain of the cringing attitude of all of them, by Anne's utter lack of dignity, by the horrid sordidness of the thing she had disclosed, which sickened her as one might be sickened by lifting a smooth stone and discovering beneath a foul reptile. "You will go—all of you—and at once."
The young Fleming now stumbled forward into the outer room. He was a big, clumsy man, fresh-coloured, blonde, fair-bearded, and blue-eyed; his face was grey and distorted with terror; he stood before Rénèe shuddering like a lashed hound. She noted, with further contempt for his utter cowardice, that he neither tried to bribe nor threaten her.
"Will it be the rope—the rope?" he asked. "Or would the Prince grant the sword—for my family's sake?"
"Go," cried Rénèe, "escape from here like the thing you are!"
She caught Anne's limp hand and dragged her to the door.