A low knock, twice repeated on the thick door behind the arras, drew
her at once to her feet. She trembled violently as she lifted up
the tapestry; something rushed through her mind telling her not to
do it. Happy had it been for her never to have opened that fatal
door!
She hesitated for a moment, but the thought of her father and the
impending search of the Chateau flashed suddenly upon her mind. The
visitant, whoever she might be, professed to be a friend, and could,
she thought, have no motive to harm her.
Caroline, with a sudden impulse, pushed aside the fastening of the
door, and uttering the words, "Dieu! protege moi!" stood face to
face with La Corriveau.
The bright lamp shone full on the tall figure of the strange
visitor, and Caroline, whose fears had anticipated some uncouth
sight of terror, was surprised to see only a woman dressed in the
simple garb of a peasant, with a little basket on her arm, enter
quietly through the secret door.
The eyes of La Corriveau glared for a moment with fiendish curiosity
upon the young girl who stood before her like one of God's angels.
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