led even now because he had not obeyed her summons. "I was dizzy; I
could not walk."

"But now, monsieur? Does it heal?"

"It is well--almost. 'Twas but a slash on the arm."

"Oh, then have I no anxiety," she murmured, with a smile that twinkled
across her lips and was gone. "I cannot perceive you to be disabled,
monsieur."

"My sweeting!" he laughed out. "If I cannot hold a sword yet, I can hold
my love."

"But you must not, monsieur," she cried, fear, that had slept a moment,
springing on her again. "You must go, and this instant, while the others
are yet away. I knew you, Blanche knew you; some other will. Oh, go, go,
I implore you!"

"If you will come with me."

She made no answer, save to look at him as at a madman.

"Nay, I mean not now, past the sentry. I am not so crazy as that. But
you will slip out, you will find a way, and come to me."

Silently, sadly, she shook her head. His arms loosened, and she freed
herself from him. But instantly he was close on her again.

"But you must! you will, you must! Ah, Lorance, my father is won over.
He bids me win you. He has sworn to welcome you; when he sees you he
will be your slave."

"But my cousin Mayenne is not won over."

"Devil fly away with your cousin Mayenne!" M. Etienne retorted with a
vehemence that made me shudder, lest the walls have ears.

"Ah, you are free to say that, monsieur, but I am not. I am of his
blood, and dwell in his house, and eat at his board."

He was looking at her with a passionate ardour, grasping her actual
words less than their import of refusal.

"Are you afraid?" he cried. "Are you frightened, heart-root of mine? You
need not be, mignonne. You can contrive to slip from the house--Mlle. de
Tavanne will help you. Once in the street, I will meet you; I will carry
you home to hold you against all the world."

"It is not that," she answered.

"Am I your fear?" he cried quickly. "Ah, Lorance, my Lorance, you need
not. I love you as I love the Queen of Heaven."

"Ah, hush!"

"As I love the Queen of Heaven. I will as soon do sacrilege toward her
as ill to you."

He dropped on his knees before her, kissing the hem of her gown. She
stood looking down on his bowed head with a tenderness that seemed to
infold him as with a mantle.

He raised his eyes to hers, still kneeling at her feet.

"Lorance, will you come with me?"

She was silent a moment, with heaving breast and face a-quiver.

"Monsieur, I am sworn. That nig