aid Roscius. "They'd drown you, or
burn me, any day, just for the sake of a grand show and a flare-up."

"They're ill brought up, then," said Stephen. "I'll take good care my
lads don't."

"O Stephen! have you some children?--how many?"

"Ay, two lads and three lasses. How many have you?"

"We're not so well off as you; we have only two maids. Why, Stephen,
I'd forgot you were married. I must come and see your wife. But I
never heard whom you did marry: was she a stranger?"

Poor Stephen was sorely puzzled what to say. On the one hand, he
thought Leuesa might safely be trusted; and as Ermine had already
suffered the sentence passed upon her, and the entire circumstances were
forgotten by most people, it seemed as if the confession of facts might
be attended by no danger. Yet he could not know with certainty that
either of his old acquaintances was incorruptibly trustworthy; and if
the priests came to know that one of their victims had survived the
ordeal, what might they not do, in hatred and revenge? A moment's
reflection, and an ejaculatory prayer, decided him to trust Leuesa. She
must find out the truth if she came to see Ermine.

"No," he said slowly; "she was not a stranger."

"Why, who could it be?" responded Leuesa. "Nobody went away when you
did."

"But somebody went away before I did. Leuesa, I think you are not the
woman who would do an old friend an ill turn?"

"Indeed, I would not, Stephen," said she warmly. "If there be any
secret, you may trust me, and my husband too; we would not harm you or
yours for the world."

"I believe I may," returned Stephen. "My cousin Derette knows, but
don't name it to any one else. My wife is--Ermine."

"Stephen! You don't mean it? Well, I am glad to know she got safe
away! But how did you get hold of her?"

Stephen told his story.

"You may be very certain we shall not speak a word to injure Ermine,"
said Leuesa. "Ay, I'll come and see her, and glad I shall be. Why,
Stephen, I thought more of Ermine than you knew; I called one of my
little maids after her. Ermine and Derette they are. I can never
forget a conversation I once had with Gerard, when he took me back to
the Castle from Isel's house; I did not think so much of it at the time,
but it came to me with power afterwards, when he had sealed his faith
with his blood."

"Ah! there's nothing like dying, to make folks believe you," commented
Roscius.

"Can't agree with you there, fri