"She is now
speaking to her. I know Caroline will make no delay to admit us."
Cadet on his side was very quiet and careless of aught save to take
the girl and get her safely away before daybreak.
A few moments of heavy silence and expectation passed over them.
The howl of a distant watch-dog was heard, and all was again still.
The low, monotonous ticking of the great clock at the head of the
gallery made the silence still more oppressive. It seemed to be
measuring off eternity, not time.
The hour, the circumstance, the brooding stillness, waited for a cry
of murder to ring through the Chateau, waking its sleepers and
bidding them come and see the fearful tragedy that lay in the secret
chamber.
But no cry came. Fortunately for Bigot it did not! The discovery
of Caroline de St. Castin under such circumstances would have closed
his career in New France, and ruined him forever in the favor of the
Court.
Dame Tremblay returned to her master and Cadet with the information
"that the lady was not in her bedchamber, but had gone down, as was
her wont, in the still hours of the night, to pray in her oratory in
the secret chamber, where she wished never to be disturbed.
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