ight yet come--perhaps a royal
carriage and escort--and day after day had she waited and hoped, only
tardily admitting the conviction that Elisabeth of Austria was as
powerless as Eustacie de Ribaumont, and meantime revolving and proposing
many a scheme that could only have entered the brain of a brave-spirited
child as she was. To appeal to her vassals, garrison with them a ruinous
old tower in the woods, and thence send for aid to the Montmorencys;
to ride to Saumur, and claim the protection of the governor of the
province; to make her way to the coast and sail for England; to start
for Paris, and throw herself in person on the Queen's protection,--all
had occurred to her, and been discussed with her two _confidantes_;
but the hope of the Queen's interference, together with the exceeding
difficulty of acting, had hitherto prevented her from taking any
steps, since no suspicion had arisen in the minds of those about
her. Veronique, caring infinitely more for her mistress's health and
well-being than for the object of Eustacie's anxieties, had always
secretly trusted that delay would last till action was impossible, and
that the discovery would be made, only without her being accused of
treason. In the present stress of danger, she could but lament and
entreat, for Eustacie's resolution bore her down; and besides, as she
said to herself, her Lady was after all going to her foster-father and
mother, who would make her hear reason, and bring her back at once,
and then there would be no anger nor disgrace incurred. The dark muddy
length of walk would be the worst of it--and, bah! most likely Madame
would be convinced by it, and return of her own accord.

So Veronique, though not intermitting her protests, adjusted her own
dress upon her mistress,--short striped petticoat, black bodice, winged
turban-like white cap, and a great muffling gray cloth cloak and hook
over the head and shoulders--the costume in which Veronique was wont to
run to her home in the twilight on various errands, chiefly to carry
her mistress's linen; for starching Eustacie's plain bands and cuffs
was Mere Perrine's special pride. The wonted bundle, therefore, now
contained a few garments, and the money and jewels, especially the
chaplet of pearls, which Eustacie regarded as a trust.

Sobbing, and still protesting, Veronique, however, engaged that if her
Lady succeeded in safely crossing the kitchen in the twilight, and in
leaving the convent, she woul