of three days'
grace, at the end of which time, should a reply he was expecting have not
arrived, he said he would not only give up his opposition to Andre's
departure, but would follow himself, renouncing for ever a scheme to
which he had sacrificed everything.

Towards the end of the third day, as Elizabeth was definitely making her
preparations for departure, the monk entered radiant. Showing her a
letter which he had just hastily broken open, he cried triumphantly--

"God be praised, madam! I can at last give you incontestable proofs of
my active zeal and accurate foresight."

Andre's mother, after rapidly running through the document, turned her
eyes on the monk with yet some traces of mistrust in her manner, not
venturing to give way to her sudden joy.

"Yes, madam," said the monk, raising his head, his plain features lighted
up by his glance of intelligence--"yes, madam, you will believe your
eyes, perhaps, though you would never believe my words: this is not the
dream of an active imagination, the hallucination of a credulous mind,
the prejudice of a limited intellect; it is a plan slowly conceived,
painfully worked out, my daily thought and my whole life's work. I have
never ignored the fact that at the court of Avignon your son had powerful
enemies; but I knew also that on the very day I undertook a certain
solemn engagement in the prince's name, an engagement to withdraw those
laws that had caused coldness between the pope and Robert; who was in
general so devoted to the Church, I knew very well that my offer would
never be rejected, and this argument of mine I kept back for the last.
See, madam, my calculations are correct; your enemies are put to shame
and your son is triumphant."

Then turning to Andre, who was just corning in and stood dumbfounded at
the threshold on hearing the last words, he added--

"Come, my son, our prayers are at last fulfilled: you are king."

"King!" repeated Andre, transfixed with joy, doubt, and amazement.

"King of Sicily and Jerusalem: yes, my lord; there is no need for you to
read this document that brings the joyful, unexpected news. You can see
it in your mother's tears; she holds out her arms to press you to her
bosom; you can see it in the happiness of your old teacher; he falls on
his knees at your feet to salute you by this title, which he would have
paid for with his own blood had it been denied to you much longer."

"And yet," said Elizabeth, after a mome