in the air.

"By my honor," said he, "this is spoken like a lady, and for the first
time I own myself beaten. Quick, saddle my dun mare, and let my
knights and squires prepare to attend me."

It was with this brilliant train that the baron alighted at the door
of the golden cottage. He begged Finette's pardon, held the stirrup
for her, and seated her behind him on his own horse, neither more nor
less than a duchess in person. Through respect, he did not speak a
single word to her on the way. On reaching the castle he uncovered his
head and led her to the seat of honor that he had chosen for her.

The baron's departure had made a great excitement, and his return
caused still greater surprise. Every one asked who the lady could be
that the baron treated with such respect. Judging from her costume,
she was a foreigner. Could she be the Duchess of Normandy or the Queen
of France? The steward, the bailiff, and the seneschal were appealed
to. The steward trembled, the bailiff turned pale, and the seneschal
blushed, but all three were as mute as fishes. The silence of these
important personages added to the general wonder.

All eyes were fixed on Finette, who felt a deadly chill at her heart,
for Yvon saw, but did not know her. He cast an indifferent glance at
her, then began again to talk in a tender tone to the fair-haired
lady, who smiled disdainfully.

Finette, in despair, took from the purse the golden bullet, her last
hope. While talking with the baron, who was charmed with her wit, she
shook the little ball in her hand, and repeated, in a whisper,

"Golden bullet, precious treasure,
Save me, if it be thy pleasure."

And behold! the bullet grew larger and larger, until it became a
goblet of chased gold, the most beautiful cup that ever graced the
table of baron or king.

Finette filled the cup herself with spiced wine, and, calling the
seneschal, who was cowering behind her, she said, in her gentlest
tones, "My good seneschal, I entreat you to offer this goblet to Lord
Yvon. I wish to drink his health, and I am sure that he will not
refuse me this pleasure."

Yvon took the goblet, which the seneschal presented to him on a salver
of enamel and gold, with a careless hand, bowed to the stranger, drank
the wine, and, setting the cup on the table before him, turned to the
fair-haired lady who occupied all his thoughts. The lady seemed
anxious and vexed. He whispered a few words in her ear that seemed to
p