Another second and there had been an outcry that would have brought the house about our ears, when, stepping to the threshold of the room, "Mademoiselle," I entreated, "for the love of God, be silent! I mean you no harm.

I am a fugitive.

I am pursued." This was no considered speech.

There had been no preparing of words; I had uttered them mechanically almost--perhaps by inspiration, for they were surely the best calculated to enlist this lady's sympathy.

And so far as went the words themselves, they were rigorously true.
With eyes wide open still, she confronted me, and I now observed that she was not so tall as from below I had imagined.