Page:Weird Tales volume 33 number 04.djvu/23

 the rain I saw it was Macrin Henriot and another.

Bon soir, Mademoiselle la Comtesse,' he accosted me, taking off his hat and bowing very low, as if he were a gentleman; 'it has been a long time since we met, but met again we have. Whom do you choose for husband now, milady, the poor despised Macrin the farrier's son, or the chopper?'

"I was so terrified I could not answer, and my silence seemed to drive him to a frenzy.

What are we waiting for?' he asked his companion, and they unfolded a horse-blanket and attempted to envelop me in it. Then I screamed for help, and—thanks to God and you, I am still here."

HERE was stark, abysmal terror in her eyes and voice as she continued: "But now I can no longer stay here. They will hunt me out, run me to earth as though I were a rabbit. I must find some other place to hide, but where can one whose life is forfeit find a refuge?"

"I do not think you need distress yourself, Mademoiselle," he comforted. "The fact that Henriot accosted you while you were walking in the street would indicate he did not know which house you lived in, and the thump I gave him on the head will lay him up for a long time, even if he does not die. His companion probably returned to General Security to report that you had been seen in the neighborhood, and the commissaire who came here was engaged in routine canvass of the houses in this street. I assured him that I lived here, and"

He paused so long she prompted him with a half-whispered, breathless: "Yes, Monsieur?"

"Knowing Marjotte must have been seen in the neighborhood and that perhaps you had been observed when you came out for your walks, I told the commissaire there were two women here, my aged servant and my wife."

"But, Monsieur, your artifice will be discovered"

Mordecai's New England conscience troubled him a little as he broke in: "It need not be, Mademoiselle. I can pack a few belongings in pormanteaux and move them here in a short time. My lodgings are not far away, and I'll retain them for a time, but I can live here, thereby giving the illusion that this house is mine, Marjotte my servant, and you"

He stopped, his sentence half completed, at the stricken look in her eyes. She had not moved, nor had her expression altered, but, oddly, her soul seemed retreating—racing in sheer panic-footed terror—behind her corneas. Before she had seemed merely frightened. Now she was horrified.

"What" he began, but halted as she drew a deep, shuddering breath, then expelled it in a pitifully weary sigh.

She was like a victim led to sacrifice, and a mute appeal for pity mingled with the tears that dewed her lashes as she bent her head submissively and whispered brokenly: "You have saved my life, Monsieur. It is yours to do with as you please. I accept your proposition."

"What?" His cheeks flushed red as hers were pale. "You mean—you thought that I would be so base"

"What else was there to think, Monsieur?"

"Woman"—the sternness of his Puritan forebears rose in his voice, making his words hard and brittle—"I am offering you protection; not asking an exchange"