cting calmly on these matters, I saw my duty plain. The Lady Anne
was the natural guardian of the young King, and she required the aid of
every honest Frenchman till her son became of an age to rule for
himself. Reasoning thus, I resolved to set out straightway for Paris,
and, having made up my mind, I closed the window and went to bed.

As soon as Madame Coutance heard of my intention she urged me to stay
longer, but the look of relief in her eyes showed she was really
pleased at my resolve. The country wearied her; she was eager to
return to the old life, and after my departure there would be no
necessity for her to remain at Aunay.

"We must make the most of Albert to-day, _ma chere_," she exclaimed
brightly. "The house will be positively gloomy without him."

"When do you start?" asked Marie.

"To-morrow at day-break. I am strong enough now to use a sword, and
the Queen-Mother has not too many friends around her."

Marie sighed. "I am tired of a contest in which selfishness plays so
large a part," she remarked.

"Yet it is distinctly droll," observed her aunt. "For example, here is
Albert, anxious to serve the Queen, while his cousin does his best for
De Retz. On the other hand I wish to help the prince, while our friend
Raoul takes orders from the King's uncle. Oh, it is a charming play!"

"Meanwhile the people die of starvation!" said Marie.

"That is unfortunate, certainly. But what would you? There must
always be some to suffer."

"It is the people now; it will be the turn of the nobles later. The
peasants won't always stand being ground down and starved," I said.

"Chut! my dear Albert, you talk like a carter. What have the people to
do with us beyond cultivating our land? You should join De Retz, who
intends doing so much for the _canaille_ in the future."

"The very distant future," I said drily, and she laughed.

Personally she cared no more for the people than for the oxen on her
estate, and said so openly.

During the afternoon I went for a turn in the park with Marie, when,
strolling as far as the rivulet, we sat for a while on its bank. It
was good to drink in the calm beauty of this scene, so utterly
different from any Paris could offer; and the memory of it returned to
me long afterwards, when, faint with hunger, and weary with fighting, I
lay amid the dead and dying on a stricken battle-field. In the
lengthening shadows we returned to the house, little dreaming what
stra