elieve it did I tell you! I beseech you, go not to-day!"
exclaimed she imploringly, clasping her hands in the eagerness of her
appeal.

"Good dame," replied he, "I deeply respect your solicitude, but I could
not, without losing all respect for myself as a gentleman, stay away out
of any consideration of impending danger. I should esteem it my duty all
the more to go, if there be danger, which I cannot believe."

"Oh, that Pierre were here to accompany you! But at least take some
servants with you, master," implored the dame, persisting in her
request.

"Good dame, I cannot consult fear when I have duty to perform; besides,
I am in no danger. I have enemies enough, I know; but he would be a bold
man who would assail the Bourgeois Philibert in the open market-place of
Quebec."

"Yet there may be such a bold man, master," replied she. "There are many
such men who would consider they did the Intendant and themselves good
service by compassing your destruction!"

"May be so, dame; but I should be a mark of scorn for all men if I
evaded a duty, small or great, through fear of the Intendant or any of
his friends."

"I knew my appeal would be in vain, master, but forgive my anxiety. God
help you! God defend you!"

She looked at him fixedly for a moment. He saw her features were
quivering with emotion and her eyes filled with tears.

"Good dame," said he kindly, taking her hand, "I respect your motives,
and will so far show my regard for your forecast of danger as to take
my sword, which, after a good conscience, is the best friend a gentleman
can have to stand by him in peril. Please bring it to me."

"Willingly, master, and may it be like the sword of the cherubim, to
guard and protect you to-day!"

She went into the great hall for the rapier of the Bourgeois, which he
only wore on occasions of full dress and ceremony. He took it smilingly
from her hand, and, throwing the belt over his shoulder, bade Dame
Rochelle good-by, and proceeded to the market.

The dame looked earnestly after him until he turned the corner of the
great Cathedral, when, wiping her eyes, she went into the house and sat
down pensively for some minutes.

"Would that Pierre had not gone to St. Ann's to-day!" cried she. "My
master! my noble, good master! I feel there is evil abroad for him in
the market to-day." She turned, as was her wont in time of trouble,
to the open Bible that ever lay upon her table, and sought strength in
meditation up