en reversed his direction, speeding like the wind, and next
instant this illusive specimen of Gallic womanhood ran plump into his
arms, not seeing where she was going, her head averted to watch the
danger that threatened from another quarter.

Before she could give utterance to more than one exclamatory "Oh," he
had kissed her thrice full on the lips. She struggled in his arms like
a frightened bird, nobly indignant with shame-crimsoned cheeks,
smiting him with her powerless little snowflake of a hand. Her royal
lover laughed.

"Ha, my Madeleine, this is the second stage of the game. The hand was
paradise on earth; the lips are the seventh heaven itself."

"Release me, you Scottish clown!" cried Madeleine, her black eyes
snapping fire. "I will have you whipped from the court for your
insolence."

"My dear, you could not be so cruel. Remember that poor Cupid's back
is naked, and he would quiver under every stroke."

"I'd never have condescended to meet you, did I dream of your acting
so. 'Tis intolerable, the forwardness of you beggarly Scots!"

"Nay, never beggarly, my dear, except where a woman is concerned, and
then we beg for favours."

"You little suspect who I am or you would not venture to misuse me
thus, and be so free with your 'my dears.'"

"Indeed, lass, in that you are mistaken. I not only found you in the
garden, but I found your name as well. You are Madeleine de
Montmorency."

She ceased to struggle, and actually laughed a little.

"How clever you are to have discovered so much in such a short time.
Now let me go, and I will thank you; nay more, I promise that if you
ask the Duke of Montmorency for his permission, and he grants it, I
will see you as often as you please."

"Now Madeleine, I hold you to that, and I will seek an introduction to
the duke at once."

She stepped back from him panting, and sank into a deep courtesy that
seemed to be characterised more by ridicule than politeness.

"Oh, thank you, sir," she said. "I should dearly love to be an
eavesdropper at your conference."

Before he could reply, the door opened by which he had entered the
park.

"In the fiend's name, the king!" muttered James, in no manner pleased
by the unwelcome interruption.

All colour left the girl's face, and she hastily endeavoured to
arrange in brief measure the disordered masses of her hair, somewhat
tangled in the struggle. As Francis advanced up the walk, the genial
smile froze on his lips, an