Presently, summoning all her strength, she looked round the room, and her eye fell upon the last number ol the ‘Plain Speaker.’ She remembered the paragraph beginning ‘My dear Hubert and knowing enough of the amenities of personal journalism to be aware that the reference was to a paragraph in Lagardère’s paper, she took that paper up and searched it for the poison.
She had not far to search. She came without delay on the allusions to Luna, Diana, Pan, and the Satyrs, and on the mysterious matter concerning a boarding school and a music master.
The paper fell from her hands, and a low moan broke from her lips. She felt that she was lost indeed.
More than an hour elapsed before Madeline descended to her carriage. Her first impulse had been to fly, to destroy herself, to put herself beyond the power of calumny and cruelty. But at last, conquering her first fear, she determined to return home, and face her fate.
CHAPTER XXXIV.—A SELF-CONSTITUTED CHAMPION.
Gavrolles was an artiste, and, with an artiste’s eye, he saw at a glance that the tactics of the newest thing in journalism furnished an admirable means of carrying out his designs. The affair was soon arranged. A few whispers at the Club, a few significant looks and intonations, a few anonymous lines to the editors of the society journals, and the thing was complete. It was a neck-to-neck race between Lagardère and the Yahoo as to which should use the poison first.
Gavrolles bought the ‘Plain Speaker,’ and grinned diabolically. He bought the ‘Whirligig,’ and positively beamed with malignant delight.
‘Ah, madame!’ he murmured to himself, ‘what will you say for yourself now?’