eared to die
before he had been received for love's sake by the countess.

This mental deliberation was so painfully interesting that he did not
feel the cold wind as it whistled round the corner of the building, and
chilled his legs. On entering that house, he must lay aside his name, as
already he had laid aside the handsome garments of nobility. In case of
mishap, he could not claim the privileges of his rank nor the protection
of his friends without bringing hopeless ruin on the Comtesse de
Saint-Vallier. If her husband suspected the nocturnal visit of a lover,
he was capable of roasting her alive in an iron cage, or of killing her
by degrees in the dungeons of a fortified castle. Looking down at the
shabby clothing in which he had disguised himself, the young nobleman
felt ashamed. His black leather belt, his stout shoes, his ribbed socks,
his linsey-woolsey breeches, and his gray woollen doublet made him
look like the clerk of some poverty-stricken justice. To a noble of
the fifteenth century it was like death itself to play the part of a
beggarly burgher, and renounce the privileges of his rank. But--to climb
the roof of the house where his mistress wept; to descend the chimney,
or creep along from gutter to gutter to the window of her room; to risk
his life to kneel beside her on a silken cushion before a glowing fire,
during the sleep of a dangerous husband, whose snores would double
their joy; to defy both heaven and earth in snatching the boldest of
all kisses; to say no word that would not lead to death or at least
to sanguinary combat if overheard,--all these voluptuous images and
romantic dangers decided the young man. However slight might be the
guerdon of his enterprise, could he only kiss once more the hand of his
lady, he still resolved to venture all, impelled by the chivalrous and
passionate spirit of those days. He never supposed for a moment that
the countess would refuse him the soft happiness of love in the midst of
such mortal danger. The adventure was too perilous, too impossible not
to be attempted and carried out.

Suddenly all the bells in the town rang out the curfew,--a custom fallen
elsewhere into desuetude, but still observed in the provinces, where
venerable habits are abolished slowly. Though the lights were not
put out, the watchmen of each quarter stretched the chains across the
streets. Many doors were locked; the steps of a few belated burghers,
attended by their servants, armed t