Even as a go-between in a love affair there might be
some danger for him, but was his mission only that?

When he left his lodgings that evening he had disguised himself as much
as possible. He wore a cloak which his acquaintances of last night had
not seen, he had procured a mask which hid as much of his face as
possible. He went armed, and fastened in the lining of his coat was the
little gold star he had taken from the dead man's coat. He fingered it
through the cloth to make sure that it was safe as he crossed the,
square and went toward the chateau. Seth may have been right, and the
six louis thrown away, for no one took any notice of Barrington as he
passed into the castle. Although he gave up his card of invitation, he
was convinced that with a little diplomacy and a bold front he could
have got in without one.

Exteriorly the castle retained much of its mediaeval appearance, and
within the new had been cleverly and lovingly grafted onto the old.
There were still dungeons enclosed in these massive walls, chambers
wherein misery and pain had cried aloud to no effect. There were narrow
passages down which tortured men must once have been carried, or at the
end of which some oubliette opened to sudden destruction. Many horrible
things must be in the knowledge of this massive masonry. The great hall,
where men at arms, after a foray or raid upon some neighboring
stronghold, must have caroused times without number, making the roof
ring with their rude rejoicing, was alive to-night with men and women,
exiles forgetting their exile for a while or exchanging news which might
mean a speedy return to their homeland. All were masked, although it was
apparent that many had no difficulty in recognizing their neighbors
under the disguise, but although there were a few brilliant costumes
and occasional flashes of jewels, the general impression of dress was
sombre and makeshift. How could it be otherwise when the flight from
Paris, or from the provinces, had been so sudden, no preparation
possible?

At one side of the hall, the center of a little group, stood a
white-haired woman of commanding presence. Jewels flashed in her dress,
and there was laughter about her. Evidently this was the Marquise de
Rovere, and she was busy welcoming her guests. With some it was more
than a passing word of greeting, there was news to be imparted by one
lately in communication with Austria or Prussia, or perchance with
England; there was the