"In your cowl you do not feel it, but it is otherwise with me." The unfortunate Tignonville stood transfixed, glaring at the back of the other's head.

For an instant he could not find his voice.

At last-- "Curse you!" he hissed in a transport of rage.

"Curse you! You did know, then?
And she was right." "If you mean that I expected you, to be sure, Monsieur," Count Hannibal answered.

"See, your place is laid.