his face, at once again seeing familiar
faces. And when, at his earnest entreaty, Berenger stood so as to allow
his countenance to be as visible as the torch could make it through the
'wall's-hole,' the vault echoed with the poor fellow's delighted cry.
'I am happy! M. le Baron is himself again. The assassin's cruel work is
gone! Ah! thanks to the saints! Blessed be St. Lucie, it was not in vain
that I entreated her!'

The torches were, however, waxing so low that the sight could not long
be afforded poor Osbert; and, with a promise to return to him next day,
the party returned to the upper air, where they warmed themselves over
the fire, and held council over measures for the present relief of the
captive. Berenger grieved that he had given him up so entirely for lost
as to have made no exertions on his behalf, and declared his resolution
of entreating that he might be allowed to enjoy comparative comfort with
them in the keep. It was a risk, but the Chevalier might fairly suppose
that the knowledge of Osbert's situation had oozed out through the
servants, and gratitude and humanity alike impelled Berenger to run some
risk for his foster-brother's sake. He was greatly touched at the poor
fellow's devotion, and somewhat amused, though with an almost tearful
smile at the joy with which he had proclaimed--what Berenger was quite
unaware of, since the keep furnished no mirrors--the disappearance of
his scars. ''Tis even so,' said Philip, 'though I never heeded it. You
are as white from crown to beard as one of the statues at Paris; but the
great red gash is a mere seam, save when yon old Satan angers you, and
then it blushes for all the rest of your face.'

'And the cheek-wound is hidden, I suppose,' said Berenger, feeling
under the long fair moustache and the beard, which was developing into
respectable proportions.

'Hidden? ay, entirely. No one would think your bald crown had only
twenty-one years over it; but you are a personable fellow still, quite
enough to please Daphne,' said Philip.

'Pshaw!' replied Berenger, pleased nevertheless to hear the shadow of a
jest again from Philip.

It was quite true. These months of quiescence--enforced though they
were--had given his health and constitution time to rally after the
terrible shock they had sustained. The severe bleedings had, indeed,
rendered his complexion perfectly colourless; but there was something
in this, as well as in the height which the loss of hair gave