'It is a strange story,' Marianne said, having listened to it with the same rapt attention she had been used to give to her beloved novels. 'But where do your debts come in?'

'Among other wordly goods, Fanchon owns an illegal gaming house, attached, incidentally, to a house of ill fame. I lost everything I possessed there, as well as a good deal I did not. I'd literally nothing left but my shirt, and only that by some last remaining shred of modesty. But Fanchon had me taken out by her men and clapped in here and here I stay until I pay her what I owe her.'

This did not appear to disturb him unduly and Marianne, distracted from her own troubles in spite of herself, could not help smiling.

'But if she keeps you prisoner here, how can she ever expect you to pay?'

'Oh, that's quite simple,' Arcadius said with an apologetic grin. 'It's marriage she wants!'

'She wants – to marry you?' Marianne exclaimed with horror.

'No, not quite that. She has a niece, much uglier than herself though rather younger. It is this frightful hag I have had the misfortune to please. I do not leave here until the ring is on my finger.'

The misfortunes of the 'Greek Prince' had worked a miracle. Marianne found herself wanting to laugh and instantly her grief seemed lessened. She was discovering that a companion in trouble, especially one like this, was the best of all comforts because he was the kind of person who took even the worst disasters philosophically.

'And – have you been here long?' she asked.

'A fortnight. But I can hold out a bit longer – especially with such pleasant company. The gentle Philomène is really rather too plain!'

There was a silence, employed by the man of letters in cleaning his nails with a piece of straw. Then, looking up, he saw that Marianne, who was still standing by the brazier, had lapsed once more into her own bitter thoughts. He coughed.

'Ahem – if I might – why don't you come and sit here by me and tell me your story. I can have some quite good ideas, I promise you, and besides, it's a relief to share one's burden. I have an idea that your young shoulders are carrying one that's much too heavy for them. Come here – I – I really should like to help you.'

Quite suddenly, he had dropped his careless pose and slightly ironical tone. Marianne saw on his comical face nothing but immense kindness and real sympathy. She moved slowly to sit by him on the straw.

'Thank you,' she said in a small voice. 'You are right. I'll tell you all about it.'


***

When Marianne had finished her story, she saw that Arcadius was looking at her with eyes that shone with admiration. He had not said a word all the time that she had been speaking except for occasional sympathetic noises at the most tragical parts, but when at last she sighed and fell silent, all he said was:

'You spent more than half the night with the Emperor – and yet you wish you were dead?'

Marianne was left speechless. For him to be a warm admirer of the usurper was one thing but that he should regard what had happened to her as the most wonderful good fortune, seemed to her rather excessive.

'You think I should be glad to have been made a pastime for the master of the hour?'

'I think chiefly that you have a very wrong idea of what has happened to you. It is not so easy to attract Napoleon.'

'And you think—'

'That you attracted him as much as he appealed to you? I'd lay my life on it. To begin with, you possess the thing above all others that he adores: a fine voice. Remember, he kept la Grassini for months when she was as stupid as an owl, and even when he still loved Josephine. And, besides that – but haven't you forbidden me to speak of your beauty? I think you know nothing of the man you love! And yet, he is worth knowing, you know.'

Marianne was beginning to find this conversation quite surprisingly enjoyable but it was rudely interrupted. Candlelight wavered on the chalky walls of the passage that opened off their prison cave and they stopped talking abruptly. Dragging footsteps sounded and a moment later Fanchon-Fleur-de-lys appeared leaning on her cane. After her came the man they had called Requin who carried a large parcel under his arm. Opening the gate in the bars with a large key, he stood back to allow the old woman to enter and then followed himself.

Fanchon hobbled forward to the brazier and gazed at the two prisoners malevolently. She pointed with her cane to Marianne.

'Get up,' she ordered. 'And take your clothes off!'

Marianne did not move. 'You cannot be serious, I imagine?' she said.

'I am so serious that unless you do as you're told at once, you shall taste my stick and Requin shall wield it. Now! Take off those things! Such garments were not made to be dragged in the dirt and I can sell them for a good price. Ho, don't worry,' she sneered, 'I have brought you others. It is no part of my plan for you to freeze to death.'

'And did the chevalier order you to take her clothes?' Arcadius interrupted. 'It would surprise me. If I were you, my lady, I would go and ask him first—'

'To do that, little gentleman, I should have to gallop after him. He was obliged to set off in haste for Normandy with the Riders.

A friend of his, a lady, is in peril at Valognes. In such matters he does not need telling twice! He will be away for several days and, in the meantime, has entrusted this little ewe-lamb to my tender care. He wants her back unharmed so that he can come to a decision about her. And I shall make sure she's returned unharmed because it is my hope he'll give her to me. But come now, quickly—'

Requin had dropped the bundle of clothes on Marianne's knees. She stared unhappily at the three people round her.

'Leave her alone,' Arcadius said angrily. 'What an old miser you are! You'd shave an egg, wouldn't you, Fanchon?'

'And you'd better keep quiet yourself, my little fellow, or Requin will teach you to mind your manners. He's a head taller than you are. You'd come out of it badly,' the old woman retorted, brandishing her cane.

'Please,' Marianne broke in. 'It is no good. I will give her my clothes. All I ask is to be allowed to change in peace.'

Neither Fanchon nor Requin moved. The man actually came and stood directly before Marianne, his hands in his pockets and a gleam in his eyes.

'If that man does not go away,' Marianne said sharply, 'I shall complain to the chevalier!'

She had scored a hit. The threat worked. Apparently Bruslart had left strong instructions regarding her. She did not relish staying in this underground dungeon until he should return but at least it would give her some respite and from her point of view, to gain time was all important. Talleyrand might institute a search for her. For the present, the only thing that mattered was that the chevalier de Bruslart had ordered that no harm should come to her. She meant to use that precious knowledge for all it was worth. Moreover, Fanchon-Fleur-de-lys instantly proved her right.

'Out, Requin!' she ordered.

The man growled but obeyed and Arcadius turned his face to the wall while Marianne hurriedly took off her pink dress and cloak, although it made her sad to do so. In a moment, the fairy tale dress was clutched in the old woman's skinny grasp and Marianne, with an assumption of indifference, put on the thick skirt and bodice and the heavy woollen stockings which had been brought for her and wrapped herself in the big black shawl.

The clothes were not new or particularly clean but they were warm and all things considered rather more suitable for living in a quarry filled with nothing but straw and chalk dust.

Fanchon, satisfied with her loot, was now ready to go back upstairs but before leaving the cave she had something more to say.

'You'll get some food later, at the same time as this stubborn mule here! Still nothing to say to me, then, eh, handsome? Philomène is getting impatient, you know.'

'Then let her. I am not yet ready to become one of the family.'

'Think, my lad, think carefully! If within a week you have not decided, Philomène may be a widow before she's a wife! My patience has limits.'

'Precisely,' Arcadius retorted smoothly, 'and mine has not.'

When the old woman and her bodyguard had gone, Marianne's new friend returned to her side and began piling up armfuls of straw to make a more comfortable bed.

'You should lie down and try to sleep,' he said kindly. 'I have no means of knowing the time because that gracious lady had my watch off me long ago but it cannot be long till daylight. Not that we'll see it, of course, but at least we shall be left in peace. Our charming Fanchon's little cabaret, The Iron Man, is almost deserted by day. By night, on the other hand, there is generally plenty going on. Go to sleep, you are so pale and there are shadows round your eyes. Besides, there's nothing else you can do.'

Marianne accepted the improvized bed which her companion had made for her while he went over to the brazier and threw on some logs of which there were fortunately a good supply in one corner. Curled up in her shawl, she watched him gratefully. He had been friendly and restored her courage, but above all, he was there. Marianne dared not think what her feelings would have been had she been left all alone in the dark in the depths of this abandoned quarry, a prey to all the phantoms of terror and despair. Now, she would be able to sleep a little and seek, in rest, an answer to all the questions which just at present she did not want to ask. How could she face admitting to herself, without the risk of going out of her mind, that she was thoroughly in love with the very man who, ever since childhood, she had learned to fear and hate above all others? She was utterly exhausted. Her mind refused to function. She must sleep and sleep might bring her counsel. Tomorrow, she would seek some way of escape.