son,' said the Baron, 'it is hard to ask of babes caution and
secrecy; but I must know from thee what thy cousin may have heard of our
doings?'

'I cannot tell, father,' replied Beranger; 'we played more than we
talked. Yet, Monsieur, you will not be angry with Eustacie if I tell you
what she said to me to-day?'

'Assuredly not, my son.'

'She said that her father would take her away if he knew what M. le
Baron read, and what he sung.'

'Thou hast done well to tell me, my son. Thinkest thou that this comes
from Diane, or from one of the servants?'

'Oh, from Diane, my father; none of the servants would dare to say such
a thing.'

'It is as I suspected then,' said the Baron. 'That child was sent
amongst us as a spy.' Tell me, Beranger, had she any knowledge of our
intended journey to England?'

'To England! But no, father, I did not even know it was intended. To
England--to that Walwyn which my mother takes such pains to make us
speak rightly. Are we then, going?'

'Listen, my son. Thou hast to-day proved thyself worthy of trust, and
thou shalt hear. My son, ere yet I knew the truth I was a reckless
disobedient youth, and I bore thy mother from her parents in England
without their consent. Since, by Heaven's grace, I have come to a better
mind, we have asked and obtained their forgiveness, and it has long been
their desire to see again their daughter and her son. Moreover, since
the accession of the present Queen, it has been a land where the light
is free to shine forth; and though I verily believe what Maitre Gardon
says, that persecution is a blessed means of grace, yet it is grievous
to expose one's dearest thereto when they are in no state to count
the cost. Therefore would I thither convey you all, and there amid thy
mother's family would we openly abjure the errors in which we have been
nurture. I have already sent to Paris to obtain from the Queen-mother
the necessary permission to take my family to visit thy grand-father,
and it must now be our endeavour to start immediately on the receipt of
the reply, before the Chevalier's information can lead to any hindrance
or detention of Eustacie.'

'Then Eustacie will go with us, Monsieur?'

'Certainly. Nothing is more important than that her faith should be the
same as yours! But discretion, my son: not a word to the little one.'

'And Landry, father? I had rather Landry went than Eustacie. And Follet,
dear father, pray take him.'

After M. de Ribaumont