'If you please,' Marianne broke in earnestly, 'there is something which seems to me still more urgent. One of my friends, the man who rescued me yesterday from the quarries of Chaillot, was hurt. He is an American, a sea captain and a most remarkable man, and I do not know what has become of him. The Emperor—'

'—Who, like most Corsicans is subject to terrible fits of jealousy, refused to answer your question! But tell me about this American. I have always adored people from his country because I was born not far away myself. There is a breath of adventure and eccentricity about them I find fascinating. Besides, the Emperor has told me very little about what has happened to you. It sounds just like a novel. You must tell me all about it, for I adore novels!'

'So do I,' Marianne said with a smile. 'But I did not enjoy this one very much.'

Fortunée's eyes sparkled as she listened with rapt attention to all that had happened since the evening of twenty-first of January when Marianne had left the house in the rue de Varennes to go to Butard. Marianne told her about Bruslart and Morvan, of whose fate she was still ignorant, about her friend Jolival, who must also be in some anxiety on her account, about Gracchus-Hannibal Pioche and, finally, about Jason Beaufort in whose company she should have been setting out for America that very day.

'I would have gone with him without hesitation,' she finished, 'if the Emperor had not made me promise to stay.'

'You would really have gone with him – even after what happened last night at the Tuileries?'

Marianne thought for a moment and then sighed.

'Yes. If I had not been made to promise that I would remain, if I had not been assured that I was needed, I should have gone today without a moment's hesitation.'

'But – why?'

'Because I love him. Now that I know who he is and what must happen in the months ahead, this – this marriage to the archduchess, I am frightened of being hurt. Whatever he may say or do, I know I shall be hurt because I can't help being jealous of her. That is why it would have been better for me to go, even more after those hours of love. Then I should have taken away with me a wonderful memory. And even at this moment, while I am talking to you, I am still sorry I have stayed because I am afraid of what lies in store for me. I even wonder if it would not be better to go against his will. I don't even know what he means to do with me, what kind of life I shall have!'

'In your place, I should trust him and have a little patience. As for running away, you cannot do that,' Fortunée said seriously. 'He would not let you go. He would have you pursued, caught, brought back to him willy-nilly. Napoleon has never let go anything he wanted. You belong to him! And, sooner or later, you must be prepared for him to bring you suffering, even if it is not by his own will. It is no easy task to love a man like that. But if you take it on, you will have to do all you can to make the best of it and not suffer more than you can help. That was why I asked you, just now, if you liked men. With more than one to think about, their power to make us suffer is that much less. For myself, I'd rather make two men happy than one miserable.'

'Love more than one man?' Marianne exclaimed, genuinely shocked. 'But I could never do that!'

Fortunée rose, stretched her long, supple golden body in its white gauzes and bestowed on Marianne a smile part-friendly and part-quizzical.

'You are too young to understand. We'll talk about it again another time. But now, write a few lines quickly to your American and invite him to come and call on you. Where does he stay?'

'At the Hôtel de l'Empire in the rue Cerutti.'

'Not very far. I'll send a man round at once. Here, there are writing materials on this table.'

A few minutes later, the side gate banged behind Fortunée's messenger and Marianne went to perform a toilet somewhat more complete than that which had been possible at the Tuileries. Without being altogether willing to admit it, she was glad to think of seeing Jason again with Jolival and Gracchus, whom she had asked him to bring with him. All three had now assumed a special place in her heart because they had shown her what true friendship could be. Once the letter had been written and entrusted to a servant, Fortunée had asked her suddenly whether Jason was in love with her and Marianne had answered quite sincerely:

'No, not really. He believes he owes me a great debt and being an honest fellow, I see that now, he wants to give back what he has taken from me. He'll be disappointed that I do not go with him but nothing more.'

'Has he never claimed – your part in your husband's wager?'

'Oh no. Oh, I think he finds me attractive, but there is nothing in it. He is a strange person, you know. What he loves more than anything is the sea, his ship and his crew. There is not much room for love in such a life.'

Fortunée had not insisted. She had merely shrugged and smiled indulgently. But when, an hour later, the doorbell rang announcing a visitor, she reappeared in the salon, fully dressed, as though by magic. Clearly, the American had piqued her curiosity. But it was not Jason who appeared. As the two young women came in through one door, Arcadius de Jolival was making his entrance through the other. He was dressed like a fashion plate, radiating elegance and cheerfulness. Marianne stared at him with a mixture of amusement and disappointment as he made a bow with all the elaborate grace of a past age.

'You behold me, ladies, bursting with pride and happiness at the privilege of laying my homage at your charming feet!'

'Fortunée was looking at the new arrival with frank curiosity. 'Who is it?' she asked.

'My Greek prince of whom I told you, Arcadius de Jolival,' Marianne replied absently. 'But where is Jason, my friend? Why is he not with you?'

The happy smile faded from Jolival's face.

'But he is, my dear child, he is! Only, in the form of a letter which I have here. I could not persuade him to come. He said it could do no good. And as I left to accompany your servant, madame, he was on the point of setting out for Nantes.'

'He has gone? Without seeing me, without saying goodbye?'

The sudden break in Marianne's voice brought Fortunée's observant eyes upon her. It suggested something very like distress. Arcadius came forward slowly, taking a letter from inside his snuff brown coat and slipped it into Marianne's hand.

'I think he says goodbye in this,' he said gently. 'He believed there was no more for him to do here. His ship and his business called for him.'

'But, his wound?'

'A small matter for a man like him. The Emperor sent him his personal physician this morning with expressions of his gratitude – and a memento. Besides, there is nothing like sea air for an invalid. Wounds are well known to heal far quicker at sea than on land. That, at least is the opinion of the Emperor's physician. He expressed it more than once. But—' the man of letters spoke with some hesitation, 'did you, then, still mean to go with him?'

'N-no—' Marianne said doubtfully. 'No, of course not! That cannot be now.'

She had not missed the reference to the imperial physician. Certainly Napoleon left nothing to chance.

'Well then. Read his letter, it will certainly tell you more than I can.'

Quickly, Marianne broke the black seal with its simple device of a ship in full sail, unfolded the paper and read the few words Jason had written in a large, bold hand.

'Why did you not tell me what you were to him? It might have stopped me making a fool of myself. I realize it is not possible for you to come and live in my country. But did you really, honestly, wish to? I wish you all the happiness in the world, but if, some day, that happiness seems to you to leave a bitter taste, then remember me – and that I owe a debt to you – for the danger of which I told you is not yet past. But it is true that in future you will have a much better defence than any I could give you. Be happy. Jason.'

Marianne held out the letter to Fortunée with trembling fingers. But a cloud had come over her happiness less on account of this new mention of the mysterious danger which hung over her than because he had gone making no attempt to see her, giving her no chance to explain, or even to ask his forgiveness, and tell him of her gratitude and friendship. The sharpness of her disappointment took her by surprise. God alone knew what she had been hoping for. Perhaps that Jason's wound would oblige him to stay longer in Paris so that they might have had time to see one another, to talk and get to know each other better. It would have made her so happy to establish their hitherto stormy relationship on a basis of real friendship. But then, she dared say, Jason did not want her friendship maybe because she was the Emperor's mistress and had not told him of it. The tone of his letter suggested that his masculine pride was injured. He could not have known how much he had come to matter to Marianne, to be someone dear whose absence could be a source of grief.

She looked up and met Jolival's eye and it seemed to her that she read some pity in it. But just at that moment in her life, pity was one thing she could not endure. She threw up her chin, gripped her hands tightly together and forced herself to smile and speak of something else, no matter what, so long as it hid her feelings.

'You are looking splendid,' she said to fill the silence which had fallen. 'What has happened to you? But please, won't you sit down?'

Jolival sat, carefully smoothing the pale blue pantaloons over his bony knees where they fitted snugly into his elegantly pointed boots.

'Our friend Beaufort lent me a little money with which I was able to recover my wardrobe and my room on the Montagne Sainte Geneviève. But none the less, I shall have to find some situation by which to earn my living. Gaming has few attractions for me and besides, I am not anxious to come up against Fanchon-Fleur-de-lis and her Philomène a second time.'

'Do you think we have anything more to fear from her?' Marianne asked with sudden horror at mention of the dreadful old woman and remembering the danger of which Jason had still spoken.

'For the present I do not think so. So long as we do not venture into her territorial waters, she will not sail into ours. And I cannot see that we should have much to do at the Epi-Scié or the Homme de Fer. Besides, Bruslart and Saint-Hubert managed to escape but the rest of the conspirators were arrested. Our friend Morvan is under lock and key. And I think there was a raid on the cabaret in the rue des Bonshommes, although Fanchon is certainly too clever to be caught like that.'

At this point, Fortunée, who had finished reading the letter and had for a moment or two been looking rather pensive, gave it back to her friend.

'What is this danger he speaks of?'

'Truly, I do not know. He has always talked of it and then said he can tell me no more in my own interests. But, apart from that, what do you think of his letter?'

'If this man does not love you, I'll be hanged,' Madame Hamelin answered simply. 'For myself, I am very sorry he has gone. I should have liked to meet him.'

'What for?'

'Shall we say—' the Creole gave her teasing smile, 'I like his handwriting. I have always told you I was fond of men. Something tells me this one is a man. Should he come back, you must present him to me without fail.' She turned to Jolival. 'But did he say anything to you about this mysterious danger?'

'Yes,' said the man of letters. 'I know what it is but it is best that Marianne should not. One never knows. It may never come to anything. So why worry? Forget it. And, should our American come back one day, I shall make it my personal business to present him to you, gracious lady!' he finished gallantly.

Deliberately rejecting the possible notion of Jason and Fortunée's becoming one day attached to one another, Marianne launched into a grandiose account of what she hoped to do for those who had helped her and promised Jolival to do what she could on his behalf. She would speak to the Emperor, who would certainly find some employment for the varied talents of such an inveterate idler.

'I wish I could do something for you,' he said with a sigh. 'Have you given up the idea of a singing career?'

'It is not for me to say,' she answered blushing with mingled pleasure and embarrassment at this proclamation of her dependence.