uit; "himself and no other."

"And what is to be my particular infamy?"

"Child, beware of your speech," said the Jesuit; "there is no infamy in
the service of Holy Church, of the Society, and of your King."

"To a well-known air!" said the girl, sneeringly; "well, I will sing the
song. I know the music."

And she went and placed herself by the window which overlooked the
pleasaunce of the Duke of Guise.

"Salome," she said, "come hither and comb out my tresses!"

And with the graceful ease of strong young arms, she pulled out a
tortoise-shell pin here and a mother-of-pearl fastening there till a
flood of hair escaped, falling down her back, with dark, coppery lights
striking out of the duskier coils, and the lingering sunset illuminating
the ripples of fine-spun gold.

"Thus goes the exercise," she said with a cold anger, "the Holy Society
trains us well. But for this, and all else, God will enter into judgment
with you and your like!"

But, heedless of her words, the priest was already stooping and peering
behind the curtain.

"There they go," he whispered eagerly, "Guise and Mayenne together, Bar
and the Cardinal behind--ah, there, it takes! Gripped--netted--what did
I tell the King? He has his kerchief out. Quick, Valentine, yours! What,
you have left it behind? Here is mine. Twice--I tell you, twice--and
your hand upon your heart. Ah, he salutes! He will soon call upon the
envoy of the King of Spain now. I wager we shall have him here in the
morning before breakfast! Ah, what news this will be to send by the
courier to-night to your--to King Philip! He will sleep sound, I
warrant. And remember, to-morrow, speak him fair when he comes. All
depends on that. I shall not be far away. I shall know and report to the
King. It shall not be well with you otherwise. Guise must go to
Blois--to the King of France. He must take his gentlemen with him. No
sulking in his own territories. To Blois, and face it out--like a man."

The girl rose from the window and came back into the chamber. She opened
the door, and with a gesture of proud weariness indicated the dark
corridor without.

"Your turn is served," she said, "now go!"

But Mariana, a cunning smile on his face, held out his hand.

"Give me first my kerchief!" he said.

The girl crushed the embroidered linen into a ball in her hand, holding
it at her side and slightly behind. Then she threw it out of the window
with a gesture of contempt. The next moment th