light: it made the same
answer; nothing had altered; the beacon was always one of hope.

For four days it thus continued to indicate that the moment of escape was
at hand; on the evening of the fifth, before the queen had counted five
beats, the light reappeared: the queen leaned upon Mary Seyton; she was
nearly fainting, between dread and 'delight. Her escape was fixed for
the next evening.

The queen tried once more, and obtained the same reply: there was no
longer a doubt; everything was ready except the prisoner's courage, for
it failed her for a moment, and if Mary Seyton had not drawn up a seat in
time, she would have fallen prone; but, the first moment over, she
collected herself as usual, and was stronger and more resolute than ever.

Till midnight the queen remained at the window, her eyes fixed on that
star of good omen: at last Mary Seyton persuaded her to go to bed,
offering, if she had no wish to sleep, to read her some verses by M.
Ronsard, or some chapters from the Mer des Histoires; but Mary had no
desire now for any profane reading, and had her Hours read, making the
responses as she would have done if she had been present at a mass said
by a Catholic priest: towards dawn, however, she grew drowsy, and as Mary
Seyton, for her part, was dropping with fatigue, she fell asleep directly
in the arm-chair at the head of the queen's bed.

Next day she awoke, feeling that someone was tapping her on the shoulder:
it was the queen, who had already arisen.

"Come and see, darling," said she,--"come and see the fine day that God
is giving us. Oh! how alive is Nature! How happy I shall be to be once
more free among those plains and mountains! Decidedly, Heaven is on our
side."

"Madam," replied Mary, "I would rather see the weather less fine: it
would promise us a darker night; and consider, what we need is darkness,
not light."

"Listen," said the queen; "it is by this we are going to see if God is
indeed for us; if the weather remains as it is, yes, you are right, He
abandons us; but if it clouds over, oh! then, darling, this will be a
certain proof of His protection, will it not?"

Mary Seyton smiled, nodding that she adopted her mistress's superstition;
then the queen, incapable of remaining idle in her great preoccupation of
mind, collected the few jewels that she had preserved, enclosed them in a
casket, got ready for the evening a black dress, in order to be still
better hidden in the darkness: and