zard would be too
great."

"Nay, nay," pleaded Francis, her soul on fire at the mere mention of
escape. "Do take me."

"But what couldst thou do even were we to succeed?" demanded Devereaux.
"Where couldst thou go?"

"To my father in France," replied Francis.

"Nay; but"--began Devereaux again when the girl caught his hand and held
it tightly with her own.

"I will not let thee go until thou dost consent," she cried with some of
her old wilfulness. "Oh, Edward, do say yes."

Devereaux looked at her thin hands, her face so pale and worn, so
different from its former sauciness, and all the chivalry of his nature
rose up.

"When thou dost speak so, Francis," he said gently, "I can deny thee
nothing."

"And thou wilt?" cried she with shining eyes.

"Yea, Francis; but consider well the danger. If we fail it may mean
death."

"We will not fail," declared the girl with positiveness. "If we do, is
not death better than imprisonment? I promise that I will kill at least
one Spaniard."

"I will hold thee to that vow," laughed Devereaux. "But thy woman comes,
Francis. I will inform thee of the plan when I fix on one. Fare you
well."

"Fare you well," returned Francis.

"Thine enemy's converse hath done thee good," commented Mrs. Shelton
waggishly on their return to the upper chamber of the Bell Tower.

Francis looked at her a moment and then said with dignity:

"I had forgot that he was mine enemy, mistress. Besides, I may have been
somewhat unmannerly in my treatment of Master Devereaux, and it behooves
me as a gentlewoman to make other recompense for his courtesy."

"And say you so, Francis?" laughed Mrs. Shelton who considered the affair
great sport. "Belike it be no unpleasant duty. But there, child! 'Tis
little of entertainment thou hast, so make merry with the lad for I fear
that he will not remain here long."

"I fear so too," answered Francis, and in her heart lay the unspoken wish
that not only Devereaux's time but her own might be short.

The days passed and Edward Devereaux had not yet matured a scheme for
their flight. June waxed and waned, and July was upon them. Then one day,
when the girl had almost despaired of hearing him speak of the attempt
again, Devereaux said to her in a low tone:

"Art thou willing to make the effort to-night, Francis?"

"To-night?" cried Francis thrilling at the thought. "Yea; to-night,
Edward. But how?"

"Does Mrs. Shelton stay in your chamber at night?"

"Not