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So she nerved herself, and went on to La Marmotte's room, though it was with a quaking heart. At the door Torquato stopped, expressed a civil hope that mademoiselle would be comfortable, and, bowing politely to her as she passed in, handed the candle to La Marmotte, and was about to return when he felt his arm seized.
I made up my mind to go a step farther than La Marmotte's suggestion, and as the chances of discovery were equal whether I remained in the outer room or here I decided to stay where I was. Between the wall and one of the projecting bookshelves there was space sufficient for a man to stand perfectly concealed, unless anyone chose to come round the bookcase.
La Marmotte's heart almost stood still, and the candlestick she held all but fell from her trembling hand, as the poor wretch thought of the wrath that would overtake her if her charge escaped. But it was impossible! It could not be! And La Marmotte made another step forward, and as she looked she saw a white-robed figure kneeling at a prie-dieu, half concealed by the valence of the bed.
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