ould, and at
last she said that I might house her with one of our peasants. Meanwhile
she is with me here. She is not so mad but that she has wisdom too, and
she shall have my care and friendship.

"I bid thee to God's care, Robert. I need not tell thee to be not
dismayed. Thou hast two jails, and one wherein I lock thee safe is warm
and full of light. If the hours drag by, think of all thou wouldst do if
thou wert free to go to thine own country--yet alas that thought!--and
of what thou wouldst say if thou couldst speak to thy ALIXE.

"Postscript.--I trust that they have cared for thy wounds, and that thou
hast light and food and wine. Voban hath promised to discover this for
me. The soldier Gabord, at the citadel, he hath a good heart. Though
thou canst expect no help from him, yet he will not be rougher than his
orders. He did me a good service once, and he likes me, and I him. And
so fare thee well, Robert. I will not languish; I will act, and not be
weary. Dost thou really love me?"

V. THE DEVICE OF THE DORMOUSE

When I had read the letter, I handed it up to Gabord without a word. A
show of trust in him was the only thing, for he had enough knowledge of
our secret to ruin us, if he chose. He took the letter, turned it over,
looking at it curiously, and at last, with a shrug of the shoulders,
passed it back.

"'Tis a long tune on a dot of a fiddle," said he, for indeed the
letter was but a small affair in bulk. "I'd need two pairs of eyes
and telescope! Is it all Heart-o'-my-heart, and
Come-trip-in-dewy-grass--aho? Or is there knave at window to bear
m'sieu' away?"

I took the letter from him. "Listen," said I, "to what the lady says of
you." And then I read him that part of her postscript which had to do
with himself.

He put his head on one side like a great wise magpie, and "H'm--ha!"
said he whimsically, "aho! Gabord the soldier, Gabord, thou hast a good
heart--and the birds fed the beast with plums and froth of comfits till
he died, and on his sugar tombstone they carved the words, 'Gabord had a
good heart.'"

"It was spoken out of a true spirit," said I petulantly, for I could not
bear from a common soldier even a tone of disparagement, though I saw
the exact meaning of his words. So I added, "You shall read the whole
letter, or I will read it to you and you shall judge. On the honour of a
gentleman, I will read all of it!"

"Poom!" said he, "English fire-eater! corn-cracker! Show me the '