opriate coat of arms--three
golden storks on an azure field. Yes, it is as I said, an ancient and
illustrious family--one of the oldest and most honourable in France.
Paramede de Sigognac figured gloriously in the first crusade. A Raimbaud
de Sigognac, the father of this young man without doubt, was the devoted
friend and companion of Henri IV, in his youth, but was not often
seen at court in later years. It was said that he was embarrassed
financially, I remember."

"So much so, that when our troupe sought refuge of a stormy night under
his roof, we found his son living in a half ruined chateau, haunted by
bats and owls, where his youth was passing in sadness and misery. We
persuaded him to come away with us, fearing that he would die there of
starvation and melancholy--but I never saw misfortune so bravely borne."

"Poverty is no disgrace," said the prince, "and any noble house that
has preserved its honour unstained may rise again from its ruins to
its ancient height of glory and renown. But why did not the young baron
apply to some of his father's old friends in his distress? or lay his
case before the king, who is the natural refuge of all loyal gentlemen
under such circumstances?"

"Misfortunes such as his are apt to breed timidity, even with the
bravest," Isabelle replied, "and pride deters many a man from betraying
his misery to the world. When the Baron de Sigognac consented to
accompany us to Paris, he hoped to find some opportunity there to
retrieve his fallen fortunes; but it has not presented itself. In order
not to be an expense to the troupe, he generously and nobly insisted
upon taking the place of one of the actors, who died on the way, and who
was a great loss to us. As he could appear upon the stage always masked,
he surely did not compromise his dignity by it."

"Under this theatrical disguise, I think that, without being a sorcerer,
I can detect a little bit of romance, eh?" said the prince, with a
mischievous smile. "But I will not inquire too closely; I know how good
and true you are well enough not to take alarm at any respectful tribute
paid to your charms. I have not been with you long enough yet as a
father, my sweet child, to venture upon sermonizing."

As he paused, Isabelle raised her lovely eyes, in which shone the purest
innocence and the most perfect loyalty, to his, and met his questioning
gaze unflinchingly. The rosy flush which the first mention of de
Sigognac's name had called u