the pleasure in the world. No haste!" he added,
holding up his hand, as he saw a dangerous look come into Denis de
Beaulieu's face. "If your mind revolts against hanging, it will be time
enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the window or upon the
pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life are always two hours. A great
many things may turn up in even as little a while as that. And, besides,
if I understand her appearance, my niece has still something to say to
you. You will not disfigure your last hours by a want of politeness to a
lady?"

Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture.

It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased at this symptom
of an understanding; for he smiled on both, and added sweetly: "If you
will give me your word of honour, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my
return at the end of the two hours before attempting anything desperate,
I shall withdraw my retainers, and let you speak in greater privacy with
mademoiselle."

Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to agree.

"I give you my word of honour," he said.

Messire de Maletroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the apartment,
clearing his throat the while with that odd musical chirp which had
already grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de Beaulieu. He first
possessed himself of some papers which lay upon the table; then he went
to the mouth of the passage and appeared to give an order to the men
behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled out through the door by which
Denis had come in, turning upon the threshold to address a last smiling
bow to the young couple, and followed by the chaplain with a hand-lamp.

No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced towards Denis with her
hands extended. Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes shone
with tears.

"You shall not die!" she cried, "you shall marry me after all."

"You seem to think, madam," replied Denis, "that I stand much in fear of
death."

"Oh, no, no," she said; "I see you are no poltroon. It is for my own
sake--I could not bear to have you slain for such a scruple."

"I am afraid," returned Denis, "that you underrate the difficulty,
madam. What you may be too generous to refuse, I may be too proud to
accept. In a moment of noble feeling towards me, you forget what you
perhaps owe to others."

He had the decency to keep his eyes upon the floor as he said this, and
after he had finished, so as not to spy upon he