uld have none of their suggestions. "No, no. That is not any
one we know. She is neither court lady nor a play actress; she is some
goddess in disguise, and I am going to reveal divinity."

Then he tripped daintily forward and intercepted Gabrielle and her
companions as they accomplished their first tour of the pond. "Fair
lady," said Chavernay, with a graceful bow, "are you looking for some
one?"

The large arm of Cocardasse was interposed between Chavernay and
Gabrielle, and the large voice of Cocardasse counselled Chavernay: "Stand
aside, little man."

Quite indifferent to the counsels of the mighty mask, Chavernay
persisted: "Fair lady, dismiss this monster and accept my arm."

This time it was Passepoil's turn to intervene. "Out of the way!" he
commanded, and gave Chavernay a little push.

Instantly Chavernay's hot blood was in a flame, and he clapped his hand
to his sword. "How dare you, fellow--" he began.

But now Gabrielle, greatly alarmed at the prospect of a brawl in such a
place, and perfectly recognizing the marquis, removed her mask from her
face for a moment while she spoke: "Monsieur de Chavernay, you will let
me pass."

It was only for a moment, but it was long enough to give Chavernay time
to recognize her, and he fell back with a respectful salutation. It was
long enough, also, for Peyrolles, leaning against his tree and at last
roused from saddened thoughts to contemplation of the outer world, to get
a glimpse of the girl's face and to recognize its extraordinary
resemblance to the dead duke. He gave a start of surprise. Was fortune
playing into his hands, after all?

Chavernay bowed. "Your pardon, lady; your path is free," he said, and
stood aside while Gabrielle moved slowly forward with her escort on a
second tour of the fountain. Navailles and the others had seen, indeed,
the lady unmask, but were not near enough to descry her features.

"Well," said Navailles, eagerly, to Chavernay--"well, who was the lady?"

Chavernay answered, coolly: "I do not know."

At this moment the lean form and yellow face of Monsieur de Peyrolles
intruded itself into the group of Gonzague's friends.

"Monsieur de Chavernay," he said, "my illustrious master is looking for
you. He is with his majesty."

"I will join him," Chavernay answered, readily. He was, like his kinsman,
a privileged person with the sovereign, and he, too, was permitted to
enter the tent unchallenged. He entered it with a graver demea