Yes, SHE WAS SMILING AT HIM--this woman
whose brother he had brought to the hangman, this woman who had
stolen Black Roger from another! She knew him--he was sure of
that; she knew him as the man who had believed her a criminal
along with her brother, and who had fought to the last against her
freedom. Yet from her lips and her eyes and her face the old
hatred was gone. She was coming toward him slowly; she was
reaching out her hand, and half blindly his own went out, and he
felt the warmth of her fingers for a moment, and he heard her
voice saying softly,
"Welcome to Chateau Boulain, M'sieu Carrigan."
He bowed and mumbled something, and Black Roger gently pressed his
arm, drawing him back to the door. As he went he saw again that
Carmin Fanchet was very beautiful as she stood there, and that her
lips were very red--but her face was white, whiter than he had
ever seen the face of a woman before.
As they went up a winding stair to the second floor, Roger
Audemard said, "I am proud of my Carmin, M'sieu David. Would any
other woman in the world have given her hand like that to the man
who had helped to kill her brother?"
They stopped at another door.
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