of the Flockhart conspiracy. On the other hand, perhaps it was he who was taking the Flockharts too seriously. Maybe he should investigate further before doing anything rash. 

 Later that night, he slipped over to the Flockhart villa and nosed about in the courtyard until he found the window behind which the family was conspiring. He peered through a chink in the curtains, so he could both see and hear. 

 Corisande was saying, "And so I think there is a lot in what Ludovick said...." 

 Bless her, he thought emotionally. Even in the midst of her plotting, she had time to spare a kind word for him. And then it hit him:  she, too, was a plotter. 

 "You suggest that we try to turn the power of love against the Belphins?" the uncle asked ironically. 

 Corisande gave a rippling laugh as she twirled her glittering pendant. "In a manner of speaking," she said. "I have an idea for a secret weapon which might do the trick——" 

 At that moment, Ludovick stumbled over a jug which some careless relative had apparently left lying about the courtyard. It crashed to the tesserae, spattering Ludovick's legs and sandals with a liquid which later proved to be extremely red wine. 

 "There's someone outside!" the uncle declared, half-rising. 

 "Nonsense!" Corisande said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I didn't hear anything." 

 The uncle looked dubious, and Ludovick thought it prudent to withdraw at this point. Besides, he had heard enough. Corisande—his Corisande—was an integral part of the conspiracy. 

 He lay down to sleep that night beset by doubts. If he told the Belphins about the conspiracy, he would be betraying Corisande. As a matter of fact, he now remembered, he had already told them about the conspiracy and they hadn't believed him. But supposing he could convince them, how could he give Corisande up to them? True, it was the right thing to do—but, for the first time in his life, he could not bring himself to do what he knew to be right. He was weak, weak—and weakness was sinful. His old Belphin teacher had taught him that, too. 

 As Ludovick writhed restlessly upon his bed, he became aware that someone had come into his chamber. 

 "Ludovick," a soft, beloved voice whispered, "I have 

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