s, the darling! They won't be back--you're safe for a while, my
children. I'll keep watch for you. Make good use of your time. Kiss her
well, monsieur."

"Mademoiselle, you are an angel."

"No, she is the angel," Mlle. Blanche laughed back at him. "I'm but your
warder. Have no fear; I'll keep good watch. Here, you in the petticoats,
that were a boy the other night, go to the farther door. Mme. de Nemours
takes her nap in the second room beyond. You watch that door; I'll watch
the corridor. Farewell, my children! Peste! think you Blanche de Tavanne
is so badly off for lovers that she need grudge you yours, Lorance?"

She danced out of the door, while I ran across to my station, Mlle. de
Montluc standing bewildered, ardent, grateful, half laughing, half in
tears.

"Lorance, Lorance!" M. Etienne murmured tremulously. "She said I should
kiss you--"

I put my fingers in my ears and then took them out again, for if my ears
were sealed, how was I to hear Mme. de Nemours approaching? But I admit
I should have kept my eyes glued to the crack of the door; that I ever
turned them is my shame. I have no business to know that mademoiselle
bowed her face upon her lover's shoulder, her hand clasping his neck,
silent, motionless. He pressed his cheek against her hair, holding her
close; neither had any will to move or speak. It seemed they were well
content to stand so the rest of their lives.

Mademoiselle was the first to stir; she raised her head and strove to
break away from his locked arms.

"Monsieur! monsieur! This is madness! You must go!"

"Are you sorry I came?" he demanded vibrantly. "Are you sorry, Lorance?"

His eyes held hers; she threw pretence to the winds.

"No, monsieur; I am glad. For if we never meet again, we have had this."

"Aye. If I die to-night, I have had to-day."

Their voices were like the rune of the heart of the forest, like the
music of deep streams. I turned away my head ashamed, and strove to
think of nothing but the waking of Mme. de Nemours.

"I thought you dead," she moaned, her voice muffled against his cheek.
"No one would tell me what happened last night. I could not devise any
way of escape for you--"

"There is a tunnel from Ferou's house to the Rue de la Soierie. His
mother--merciful angel--let me through."

"And you were not hurt?"

"Not a scratch, ma mie."

"But the wound before? Felix said--"

"I was put out of combat the night I got it," he explained earnestly,
troub