At that moment the outer door opened below, and the murmur of voices came to them.
"Oh, monsieur--oh, your Excellency, let me go!" she whispered fearfully.
"It is my mother and Duclosse the mealman." Valmond recognised the fat, wheezy tones of Duclosse--Sergeant Duclosse.
He released her, and she caught up the candle.
"What can you do ?" she whispered.
"I will wait here.

I must not go down," he replied.

"It would mean ruin." Ruin! ruin! Was she face to face with ruin already, she who, two minutes ago, was as safe and happy as a young bird in its nest?
He felt instantly that he had made a mistake, had been cruel, though he had not intended it.
"Ruin to me," he said at once.

"Duclosse is a stupid fellow: he would not understand; he would desert me; and that would be disastrous at this moment.

Go down," he said.