y I am! Why should I be so unfortunate, so miserable?"
she cried, and beat upon the door again.

"Ah, mon Dieu! My father's precautions! He went round the chateau six
weeks ago, to examine all the doors. I was not with him, or I should
have known it. Helene! Will you do as I ask you?"

"Ah! there is nothing to be done. I had to speak to you--I cannot, with
this dreadful door between us, and--Ah, heavens, something has put out
my candle. I am in the dark! What shall I do!"

"Courage, courage!" he said, speaking close to the keyhole. "Go back up
the stairs; go to the chapel window!"

"But I cannot speak to you from the window!"

"Yes, you can--you shall."

"But I am in the dark!"

"You cannot miss your way. Go--go quickly--we have not much time--it is
late already."

"I could not help it," sighed Helene.

She was almost angry with him, and for a moment she was sorry she had
sent him any message.

"What is the use? How can I speak to him from the window? it is too
high," she said to herself as she stumbled up the stairs, shuddering as
her fingers touched the damp wall. "It is my fate--I am never to be
happy. My mother knows she can do as she likes with me."

A sob rose in her throat, and burning tears blinded her. But she dashed
them away when she reached the level, and saw the thin line of light
which showed the entrance into her own room, where she had left a candle
burning. The opposite panel flew open as she touched it; she stooped and
crept into the chapel.

It was dark, cold, and lonely; no friendly red light in the seldom-used
little sanctuary; but the window in the north wall was unshuttered, and
let in the pale glimmer of a sky lit by stars. Helene had no difficulty
in opening the window, though its rusty hinges groaned. There was a
quick, loud rustling in the ivy beneath. Helene stepped back with a
slight scream as a hand shot suddenly up and caught the sill; in another
instant Angelot had climbed to the level of the window and dropped on
the brick floor. Helene was almost in his arms, but she drew back and
motioned him away, remembering just in time that she was angry.

"What is it?" he said quickly. "Why--"

"How--how did you get here?" she stammered. "I thought you were down in
the moat."

"It is not the first time I have climbed the ivy, as the owls might
tell you," he said. "It is easy; the old trunk is as thick as my body,
and twists like a ladder. Helene! You are angry with me! What have