ing fires kindled in his breast. "Come
here, Le Gardeur," said he; "I have a message for you which I would not
deliver before, lest you might be angry."

De Pean led him into a recess of the room. "You are wanted in the city,"
whispered he. "Angelique sent this little note by me. She put it in my
hand as I was embarking for Tilly, and blushed redder than a rose as she
did so. I promised to deliver it safely to you."

It was a note quaintly folded in a style Le Gardeur recognized well,
inviting him to return to the city. Its language was a mixture of light
persiflage and tantalizing coquetry,--she was dying of the dullness of
the city! The late ball at the Palace had been a failure, lacking the
presence of Le Gardeur! Her house was forlorn without the visits of her
dear friend, and she wanted his trusty counsel in an affair of the last
importance to her welfare and happiness!

"That girl loves you, and you may have her for the asking!" continued
De Pean, as Le Gardeur sat crumpling the letter up in his hand. De Pean
watched his countenance with the eye of a basilisk.

"Do you think so?" asked Le Gardeur eagerly. "But no, I have no more
faith in woman; she does not mean it!"

"But if she does mean it, would you go, Le Gardeur?"

"Would I go?" replied he, excitedly. "Yes, I would go to the lowest pit
in hell for her! But why are you taunting me, De Pean!"

"I taunt you? Read her note again! She wants your trusty counsel in an
affair of the last importance to her welfare and happiness. You know
what is the affair of last importance to a woman! Will you refuse her
now, Le Gardeur?"

"No, par Dieu! I can refuse her nothing; no, not if she asked me for my
head, although I know it is but mockery."

"Never mind! Then you will return with us to the city? We start at
daybreak."

"Yes, I will go with you, De Pean; you have made me drunk, and I am
willing to stay drunk till I leave Amelie and my aunt and Heloise, up
at the Manor House. Pierre Philibert, he will be angry that I leave him,
but he can follow, and they can all follow! I hate myself for it, De
Pean! But Angelique des Meloises is to me more than creature or Creator.
It is a sin to love a woman as I love her, De Pean!"

De Pean fairly writhed before the spirit he evoked. He was not so
sure of his game but that it might yet be lost. He knew Angelique's
passionate impulses, and he thought that no woman could resist such
devotion as that of Le Gardeur.

He kept