She could not understand Candeille's attitude.

This midnight visit, the vehemence of her language, the strange mixture of knowledge and ignorance which she displayed.

What did this woman know of Chauvelin's secret plans?
Was she his open ally, or his helpless tool?
And was she even now playing a part taught her or commanded her by that prince of intriguers?
Candeille, however, seemed quite unaware of the spirit of antagonism and mistrust which Marguerite took but little pains now to disguise.

She clasped her hands together, and her voice shook with the earnestness of her entreaty.
"Oh!" she said eagerly, "have I not seen that look of hatred in Chauvelin's cruel eyes ?...

He hates your husband, I tell you....