The ladies sat, wondering why their hostess did not
appear.
"Madame takes a long time, my dear," said Mrs. Merriman.
"I don't like it, mamma. I wish we hadn't come into the stranger's
house."
"Why, my love, what nonsense! The man is not a savage. The French are not
at war with us, and if they were, they do not war on women. Something has
happened to delay Monsieur de Bonnefon."
"I can't help it, mamma; I don't like his looks; I fear something, I
don't know what. Oh, I wish father were here!"
She got up and walked to and fro restlessly. Then, as by a sudden
impulse, she went quickly to the door and turned the handle, She gave a
low cry under her breath, and sprang round.
"Mamma! Mamma!" she cried. "I knew it! The door is locked."
Mrs. Merriman rose immediately.
"Nonsense, my dear! He would not dare do such a thing!"
But the door did not yield to her hand, though she pulled and shook it
violently.
"The insolent villain!" she exclaimed.
She had plenty of courage, and if her voice shook, it was with anger, not
fear. She went to the window opening on the veranda, loosed the bars, and
looked out.
"We can get out here," she said. "We will walk instantly to
Chandernagore, and demand assistance from the governor."
But the next moment she shrank back into the room. Two armed peons stood
in the veranda, one on each side of the window. Recovering herself, Mrs.
Merriman went to the window again.
"They will not dare to stop us," she said.
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