f the
strictest rule, and in the presence of a sainted abbess.

Happy, indeed, they were; and although brief, oft repeated. For,
thenceforth, not a night passed but Raoul visited his Melanie, and
tarried there enjoying her sweet converse, and bearing to her every
day glad tidings of the process of his schemes, and of the certainty
of their escape, until the approach of morning warned him to make good
his retreat ere envious eyes should be abroad to make espials.

And ever the page, Jules, kept watch at the ladder-foot in the garden;
and the true maiden, Rose, who ever sate within the chamber with the
lovers during their stolen interviews, guarded the door, with ears as
keen as those of Cerberus.

A month had passed, and the last night had come, and all was
successful--all was ready. The brigantine lay manned and armed, and at
all points prepared for her brief voyage at an instant's notice at
Calais. Relays of horses were at each post on the road. Raoul had
taken formal leave of the delighted monarch. His passport was
signed--his treasures were on board his good ship--his pistols were
loaded--his horses were harnessed for the journey.

For the last time he scaled the ladder--for the last time he stood
within the chamber.

Too happy! ay, they were too happy on that night, for all was done,
all was won; and nothing but the last step remained, and that step so
easy. The next morning Melanie was to go forth, as if to early mass,
with Rose and a single valet. The valet was to be mastered and
overthrown as if in a street broil, the lady, with her damsel, was to
step into a light caleshe, which should await her, with her lover
mounted at its side, and high for Calais--England--without the
risk--the possibility of failure.

That night he would not tarry. He told his happy tidings, clasped her
to his heart, bid her farewell till to-morrow, and in another moment
would have been safe--a step sounded close to the door. Rose sprang to
her feet, with her finger to her lip, pointing with her left hand to
the deep cupboard-door.

She was right--there was not time to reach the window--at the same
instant, as Melanie relighted the lamp, not to be taken in mysterious
and suspicious darkness, the one door closed upon the lover just as
the other opened to the husband.

But rapid and light as were the motions of Raoul, the treacherous door
by which he had passed into his concealment, trembled still as
Ploermel entered. And Rose's q