CHAPTER VI.
MADAME'S FRIGHT.
And we breathed again.

The agony of suspense, which Bezers' pause had created, passed away.

But the night already seemed to us as a week of nights.

An age of experience, an aeon of adventures cut us off--as we lay shaking behind the curtain--from Caylus and its life.

Paris had proved itself more treacherous than we had even expected to find it.
Everything and everyone shifted, and wore one face one minute, and one another.