and to see
her safe in Aunt Cecily's care; and then he should be content to have
done with this world for ever.

The thought that no one except himself could save the child, seemed to
give him the resolution to battle for life that often bears the
patient through illness, though now he as suffering more severely and
consciously than ever he had done before; and Lady Walsingham often gave
up hopes of him. He was tenderly cared for by her and her women; but
Philip was the most constant nurse, and his unfailing assiduity and
readiness amazed the household, who had begun by thinking him ungainly,
loutish, and fit for nothing but country sports.

The Chevalier de Ribaumont came daily to inquire; and the first time
he was admitted actually burst into tears at the sight of the swollen
disfigured face, and the long mark on the arm which lay half-uncovered.
Presents of delicacies, ointments, and cooling drinks were frequently
sent from him and from the Countess de Selinville; but Lady Walsingham
distrusted these, and kept her guest strictly to the regimen appointed
by Pare. Now and then, billets would likewise come. The first brought a
vivid crimson into Berenger's face, and both it and all its successors
he instantly tore into the smallest fragments, without letting any one
see them.

On the day of the Carnival, the young men of the household had asked
Master Thistlewood to come out with them and see the procession of the
_Boeuf Gras_; but before it could take place, reports were flying about
that put the city in commotion, caused the Ambassador to forbid all
going out, and made Philip expect another Huguenot massacre. The Duke
of Alencon and the King of Navarre had been detected, it was said, in a
conspiracy for overthrowing the power of the Queen-mother, bringing in
the Huguenots, and securing the crown to Alencon on the King's death.
Down-stairs, the Ambassador and his secretaries sat anxiously striving
to sift the various contradictory reports; up-stairs, Philip and
Lady Walsingham were anxiously watching Berenger in what seemed the
long-expected crisis, and Philip was feeling as if all the French court
were welcome to murder one another so that they would only let Ambroise
Pare come to his brother's relief. And it was impossible even to send!

At last, however, when Ash-Wednesday was half over, there was a quiet
movement, and a small pale man in black was at the bedside, without
Philip's having ever seen his entrance.