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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"The House of the Wolf; a romance"

Let us hide ourselves
yonder. When they are inside--you understand?"
He laid his hand on his dagger. The muscles of the lad's face
grew tense. I did understand him. "Madame," I said quickly,
"you will not betray us?"
She shook her head. The colour returned to her cheek, and the
brightness to her eyes. She was a true woman. The sense that
she was protecting others deprived her of fear for herself.
The footsteps were on the topmost stair now, and a key was thrust
with a rasping sound into the lock. But before it could be
turned--it fortunately fitted ill--we three had jumped on the bed
and were crouching in a row at the head of it, where the curtains
of the alcove concealed, and only just concealed us, from any one
standing at the end of the room near the door.
I was the outermost, and through a chink could see what passed.
One, two, three people came in, and the door was closed behind
them. Three people, and one of them a woman! My heart--which
had been in my mouth--returned to its place, for the Vidame was
not one.


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