ll him _that_, monsieur; and add--add that you saw,
by my tears and by my despair, that I spoke the truth."

"Unhappy child!" murmured the regent.

Indeed, Helene's situation was a pitiable one. By the paleness of her
cheeks, it was evident that she suffered cruelly; while she spoke, her
tears flowed ceaselessly, and it was easy to see that every word came
from her heart, and that what she had said she would do.

"Well," said the regent, "I promise you that I will do all I can to save
the chevalier."

Helene was about to throw herself at the duke's feet, so humbled was
this proud spirit by the thought of Gaston's danger; but the regent
received her in his arms. Helene trembled through her whole frame--there
was something in the contact with this man which filled her with hope
and joy. She remained leaning on his arm, and made no effort to raise
herself.

"Mademoiselle," said the regent, watching her with an expression which
would certainty have betrayed him if Helene had raised her eyes to his
face, "Mademoiselle, the most pressing affair first--I have told you
that Gaston is in danger, but not in immediate danger; let us then first
think of yourself, whose position is both false and precarious. You are
intrusted to my care, and I must, before all else, acquit myself
worthily of this charge. Do you trust me, mademoiselle?"

"Oh, yes; Gaston brought me to you."

"Always Gaston," sighed the regent, in an undertone; then to Helene he
said:

"You will reside in this house, which is unknown, and here you will be
free. Your society will consist of excellent books, and my presence will
not be wanting, if it be agreeable to you."

Helene made a movement as if to speak.

"Besides," continued the duke, "it will give you an opportunity to speak
of the chevalier."

Helene blushed, and the regent continued:

"The church of the neighboring convent will be open to you, and should
you have the slightest fear, such as you have already experienced, the
convent itself might shelter you--the superior is a friend of mine."

"Ah, monsieur," said Helene, "you quite reassure me; I accept the house
you offer me--and your great kindness to Gaston and myself will ever
render your presence agreeable to me."

The regent bowed.

"Then, mademoiselle," said he, "consider yourself at home here; I think
there is a sleeping-room adjoining this room--the arrangement of the
ground-floor is commodious, and this evening I will send you two