Worse, in his place Tavannes--not the Marshal, but his brother, Count Hannibal--had found her; he, whose odious court, at once a menace and an insult, had subtly enveloped her for a week past.

He had sat down beside her, he had taken possession of her, and, profiting by her inexperience, had played on her fears and smiled at her dislike.

Finally, whether she would or no, he had swept her with him into the Chamber.

The rest had been an obsession, a nightmare, from which only the King's voice summoning Tavannes to his side had relieved her.
Her aim now was to escape before he returned, and before another, seeing her alone, adopted his _role_ and was rude to her.

Already the courtiers about her were beginning to stare, the pages to turn and titter and whisper.