of Pierre de l'Hopital rang out through the silence of the
hall of judgment.

"Amen!" said Friar Gilles, devoutly crossing himself.

And so in due course on the meadow of La Biesse, by the side of the
blue Loire, the evil soul of Gilles de Retz went to its own place with
all the paraphernalia of repentance and in the full odour of a
somewhat hectic sanctity.

* * * * *

The day after the burning, a little company of riders left the city of
Angers, journeying westward along the Loire. It consisted of the
maidens Margaret Douglas and Maud Lindesay, with Sholto MacKim and a
dozen horsemen belonging to his Grace of Brittany. It had been
arranged that they were to be joined, upon an eminence above the river
on the right bank, by the Lord James, Malise, and Laurence, with the
escort which was to accompany them to the port of Saint Nazaire. There
(as was necessary in order to escape the troublesome navigation of the
swift and treacherous upper reaches) they would find vessels ready to
set sail for Scotland.

As the little cloud of riders left behind them the black towers of
Angers, they passed through woodland glades wherein, in spite of the
lateness of the season, the birds were singing. The air was mild and
delightsome. At last, leaving the river, they struck away inland,
having the frowning towers of Champtoce on their left as they rode.
Presently they came to a forest, wherein in days before the great
cruelty, Gilles de Retz had often hunted the wolf and the wild boar.

Here the woodland paths were covered deep with fallen leaves, and the
naked branches spoke of the desolation of a dead year.

As the maids rode forward first of their company and talked, as was
natural, of that which had taken place the day before at Nantes, they
became aware of the Lady Sybilla riding towards them on her palfrey of
white. She would have passed them without speech, with her head
downcast and her eyes fixed upon the dank ground with its covering
drift of dead autumnal leaves.

But Margaret, grateful for that which the Lady Sybilla had done for
them at Machecoul, spurred her steed and rode thwartwise to intercept
her.

"Sybilla," she said, "you will come with us to Scotland. I have many
castles there, and, they tell me, a princessdom of mine own. We shall
all be happy together and forget these ill times. Maud and I can never
repay that which you have done for us."

"Yes, I pray you come with us," s