e is not in Paris."

"But he is!--here," said Bertrand, drawing Beaufort toward the allee.

Adrienne's pale face appeared at the coach-door.

"Did I hear someone speak of Monsieur Calvert?"

Beaufort went up to her. "He is here--wounded, I think," he said in a
low voice. "I will go and see--you will not be afraid to wait?"

"To wait!--I am going, too," and before he could prevent it she had
stepped from the coach and was making her way toward the allee. A
ghastly sight met their eyes as they entered the lane. St. Aulaire lay
upon the ground, one of his companions standing over him, and at a
little distance, Calvert, white and unconscious, the blood trickling
from his left shoulder. With a low cry Adrienne knelt on the ground
beside him and felt his pulse to see if he still lived. In an instant
she was up.

"Bring him to the carriage. We must take him to the Legation--to Mr.
Morris," she says, in a low tone, to Beaufort and Bertrand, whom she had
recognized as the servant Calvert had brought with him to Azay-le-Roi.
Without a look at St. Aulaire she helped the two to get Calvert to the
coach, where he was placed on the cushions as easily as possible and
held between herself and Madame d'Azay. She hung over him during the
long drive in a sort of passion of pity and love. It was the dearest
happiness she had ever known to touch him, to feel his head upon her
arm. Even though he were dead, she thought, it were worth all her life
to have held him so. She scarcely spoke save to ask Bertrand if he knew
the cause of the encounter, and, when he had told her all he knew of the
events of the evening, she relapsed again into silence. They reached the
Legation as Mr. Morris's guests were leaving, and in a very few minutes
the young man was put to bed and a surgeon called.

Though the wound was not fatal--not even very serious--a sharp fever
fastened upon Calvert, and, in the delirium of the few days following,
Mr. Morris was easily able to learn the cause of the duel. The story he
thus gathered from Calvert's wild talk he told Adrienne and Madame
d'Azay--the two ladies came daily to inquire how the patient was
doing--for he thought that they should know of the noble action of the
young man, and he felt sure that as soon as Calvert was himself again he
would request him to keep silence about his share in the matter. He was
right, for when Calvert was come to his senses again and was beginning
to be convalescent--which was at t