u."

"I should be defenceless there, sir," she said. "There are but a
score of men-at-arms and, though formerly a place of some strength,
it could not be defended now. See, sir, it is too late already."

Philip looked round, and saw a bright light suddenly rising from
the clump of trees on which the chateau stood. He gave an
exclamation of anger.

"It cannot be helped," she said quietly. "It is but a small place.
It was part of my mother's dower. Our estates, you know, are in
Provence. My father thought I should be safer, here, than remaining
there alone while he was away. We have always been on good terms
with the townspeople here, and they did not interfere with those of
our religion during the last war; so we thought that it would be
the same now. But of late some people have been here, stirring up
the townsmen; and some travelling friars preached in the
marketplace, not long since, upbraiding the people with their
slackness in not rooting us out altogether.

"A month ago, one of the persecuted ministers came to the chateau
at night, and has been concealed there since. Seeing that there
will be no minister here for some time, word was sent round
secretly, to those of our religion in the town, and twice a week we
have had meetings in the wood. Many of the servants of the chateau
are Catholics, and of the men-at-arms, the majority are not of our
faith. Therefore I used to steal out quietly with my attendant. We
heard, two days ago, that a rumour of the meetings had got about;
and tonight's was to have been the last of them."

"And now, mademoiselle, what are your wishes? Have you any friends
with whom I could place you, until you could rejoin your father?"

"None near here, monsieur. I have always lived in the south."

"I should not have taken you for a lady of Provence," Philip said.
"Your hair is fair, and you have rather the appearance of one of my
own countrywomen, than of one born in the south of France."

"I am partly of northern blood," she said. "My mother was the
daughter of Sir Allan Ramsay, a Scottish gentleman who took service
in France, being driven from home by the feuds that prevailed
there. I knew but little about her, for she died when I was a
child; and my father, who loved her greatly, seldom speaks to me of
her."

Philip rode for some time in silence.

"I feel that I am a terrible burden on your hands, monsieur," she
said quietly, at last; "but I will do anything that you think best.
I