orch that smokes. On the back of his huge hand the muscles stood out
like whipcords. His arms, bare beneath his shepherd's cape, were burned
to brick colour.

"Jean-aux-Choux!" cried the Professor, clapping his hands, "come and see
my mother--how content she will be."

The ex-fool made a sign of negation.

"No, I cannot enter," he said; "there is a woman down in the valley
there who would see Claire Agnew. She hath somewhat to say to her, which
it concerns her greatly to know."

"Who is the woman?" demanded the Professor.

"I will vouch for her," said Jean-aux-Choux; "her name is nothing to you
or to any man."

"But Claire Agnew's name and life concern me greatly," said the
Professor hotly. "Had it been otherwise, I should even now have been in
my class-room with my students at the Sorbonne!"

"In your grave more like--with Catherine and Guise and Henry of Valois!"

"Possibly," said the Professor tranquilly, "all the same I must know!"

"I vouch for the woman. She has come with me from Collioure," said
Jean-aux-Choux. "Nevertheless, do you come also, and we will stand
apart and watch while these two speak the thing which is in their
hearts!"

"But she may be a messenger of the Inquisition," the Professor
protested, whom hard experience had rendered suspicious in these latter
days. "A dagger under the cloak is easy to carry!"

"Did I not tell you I would vouch for her?" thundered Jean-aux-Choux,
the face of the slayer of Guise showing for the first time; "is not that
enough?"

It was enough. Notwithstanding, the Professor armed himself with his
sword-cane, and prepared to be of the company. They called Claire. She
came forth to them with the flour of the bread-baking on her hands,
gowned in white with the cook's apron and cap, which Madame Amelie had
made for her--a fair, gracious, household figure.

She had no suspicions. Someone wanted to speak with her. There--down by
the olive plant! A woman--a single woman--come from far with tidings!
Well, Jean-aux-Choux was with her. Good Jean--dear Jean!

Then, all suddenly, there sprang a vivid red to her cheek.

Could it be? News of the Abbe John. Ah, but why this woman? Why could
not Jean-aux-Choux have brought the message himself?

And Claire quickened her step down towards the olives in the valley.

* * * * *

The two met, the girl and the woman--Claire, slender and dark, but with
eyes young, and with colour bright--Valent