also
from Father Paul's skill, which was accounted something very great.

Gaston and Roger had remained within the Monastery walls in close
attendance upon the patient; but the restraint had been terribly irksome
to the temper of the young knight, and he was panting to be free to
pursue his quest, and to tell his story in the King's ears. He could not
but dread that in his absence some harm might befall his Constanza.
Suppose those two remorseless men suspected her to be concerned in the
flight of their victim, what form might not their vengeance take? It was
a thing that would scarce bear thinking of. Yet what could he do to save
her and to win her until he could make an organized attack upon Saut,
armed with full authority from England's King?

And now that Father Paul was back, might it not be possible that this
could be done? Gaston felt torn in twain betwixt his love for his
brother and his love for his betrothed. Father Paul would be able to
advise him wisely and well.

The Father looked earnestly into the ardent and eager face of the youth,
and answered quietly:

"Methinks thou hast been here long enough, my son. Thou mayest do better
for Raymond by going forth upon the mission thou hast set thyself. But
first I would ask of thee a few questions. Who is this lady of whom thy
brother speaks so oft?"

"Lady?" questioned Gaston, his eyes opening wide in surprise. "Does he
indeed speak of a lady?"

The Father smiled at the question.

"Thy thoughts must have been as wandering as his if thou dost not know
as much as that," he said, with a look that brought the hot blood into
Gaston's cheek, for he well knew where his own thoughts had been whilst
he sat beside his brother, scarce heeding the ceaseless murmur which
babbled from his unconscious lips.

It had never occurred to him that he could learn aught by striving to
catch those indistinct utterances; and his mind had been full to
overflowing with his own affairs.

"I knew not that he spoke of any lady," said the young knight, wondering
for a moment, with love's irrational jealousy, whether Raymond could
have seen his Constanza and have lost his heart to her.

Had she not spoken of having slipped once into his cell to breathe in
his ear a word of hope? Might not even that passing glimpse at such a
time have been enough to subjugate his heart? He drew his breath hard,
and an anxious light gleamed in his eye. But the Father continued
speaking, and a load see