ould have asked his brother what it meant, and what was
to be done, but Berenger shook his head, and intimated that silence was
safest as present, since they might be listened to; and Philip, who
so much imagined treachery and iniquity to be the order of the day in
France that he was scarcely surprised at the present disaster, resigned
himself to the same sullen endurance. Provisions and liquor were
presently sent up from the inn, but Berenger could taste nothing but the
cold water of the fountain, which trickled out cool and fresh beneath an
arch surmounted by a figure of Our Lady. He bathed his face and head
in the refreshing spring, and lay down on a cloak in the shade, Philip
keeping a constant change of drenched kerchiefs on his brow, and
hoping that he slept, till at the end to two or three hours the
captain returned, gave the word to horse, and the party rode on through
intricate lanes, blossoming with hawthorn, and ringing with songs of
birds that spoke a very different language now to Berenger's heart from
what they had said in the hopeful morning.

A convent bell was ringing to evensong, when passing its gateway; the
escort turned up a low hill, on the summit of which stood a chateau,
covering a considerable extent of ground, with a circuit of wall,
whitewashed so as perfectly to glare in the evening sun; at every angle
a round, slim turret, crowned by a brilliant red-tiled extinguisher-like
cap; and the whole surmounted by a tall old keep in the centre. There
was a square projection containing an arched gateway, with heavy
doorways, which were thrown open as the party approached. Philip looked
up as he rode in, and over the doorway beheld the familiar fretted
shield, with the leopard in the corner, and _'A moi Ribaumont'_ round
it. Could it then be Berenger's own castle, and was it thus that he was
approaching it? He himself had not looked up; he was utterly spent with
fatigue, dejection, and the severe headache brought on by the heat of
the sun, and was only intent on rallying his powers for the crisis of
fate that was probably approaching; and thus scarcely took note of the
court into which he rode, lying between the gateway and the _corps de
logis_, a building erected when comfort demanded more space than was
afforded by the old keep, against which one end leant; but still, though
inclosed in a court, the lower windows were small and iron-barred, and
all air of luxury was reserved for the mullioned casement