which opened on a small
gallery. Through the lattices the nave amid choir could be viewed
distinctly.

Without a word the woman turned and left me, and I sat down on a little
stone bench and waited. I saw the acolytes come and go, and priests move
back and forth before the altar; I smelt the grateful incense as it rose
when mass was said; I watched the people gather in little clusters at
the different shrines, or seek the confessional, or kneel to receive the
blessed sacrament. Many who came were familiar--among them Mademoiselle
Lucie Lotbiniere. Lucie prayed long before a shrine of the Virgin, and
when she rose at last her face bore signs of weeping. Also I noticed her
suddenly start as she moved down the aisle, for a figure came forward
from seclusion and touched her arm. As he half turned I saw that it was
Juste Duvarney. The girl drew back from him, raising her hand as if in
protest, and it struck me that her grief and her repulse of him had to
do with putting Alixe away into a nunnery.

I sat hungry and thirsty for quite three hours, and then the church
became empty, and only an old verger kept a seat by the door, half
asleep, though the artillery of both armies was at work, and the air
was laden with the smell of powder. (Until this time our batteries had
avoided firing on the churches.) At last I heard footsteps near me in
the dark stairway, and I felt for my pistols, for the feet were not
those of Labrouk's wife. I waited anxiously, and was overjoyed to see
Voban enter my hiding-place, bearing some food. I greeted him warmly,
but he made little demonstration. He was like one who, occupied with
some great matter, passed through the usual affairs of life with a
distant eye. Immediately he handed me a letter, saying:

"M'sieu', I give my word to hand you this--in a day or a year, as I am
able. I get your message to me this morning, and then I come to care for
Jean Labrouk, and so I find you here, and I give the letter. It come to
me last night."

The letter was from Alixe. I opened it with haste, and, in the dim
light, read:

MY BELOVED HUSBAND: Oh, was there no power in earth or heaven to bring
me to your arms to-day?

To-morow they come to see my marriage annulled by the Church. And every
one will say it is annulled--every one but me. I, in God's name, will
say no, though it break my heart to oppose myself to them all.

Why did my brother come back? He has been hard--O, Robert, he has been
hard upon me