e
words, 'Dieu vous benisse!' in a voice so low and smooth I shuddered at
the sound. The next moment he came in and saw me, and, starting, stood
at gaze, his head thrust slightly forward, his shoulders bent, his hand
still on the latch, amazement and frowning spite in turn distorting
his lean face. He had looked to find a weak, defenceless woman, whom he
could torture and rob at his will; he saw instead a strong man armed,
whose righteous anger he must have been blind indeed had he failed to
read.

Strangest thing of all, we had met before! I knew him at once--he me. He
was the same Jacobin monk whom I had seen at the inn on the Claine, and
who had told me the news of Guise's death!

I uttered an exclamation of surprise on making this discovery, and my
mother, freed suddenly, as it seemed, from the spell of fear, which had
given her unnatural strength, sank back on the bed. Her grasp relaxed,
and her breath came and went with so loud a rattle that I removed my
gaze from him, and bent over her, full of concern and solicitude. Our
eyes met. She tried to speak, and at last gasped, 'Not now, Gaston! Let
him--let him--'

Her lips framed the word 'go,' but she could not give it sound. I
understood, however, and in impotent wrath I waved my hand to him to
begone. When I looked up he had already obeyed me. He had seized the
first opportunity to escape. The door was closed, the lamp burned
steadily, and we were alone.

I gave her a little Armagnac, which stood beside the bed for such an
occasion, and she revived, and presently opened her eyes. But I saw at
once a great change in her. The look of fear had passed altogether from
her face, and one of sorrow, yet content, had taken its place. She laid
her hand in mine, and looked up at me, being too weak, as I thought,
to speak. But by-and-by, when the strong spirit had done its work, she
signed to me to lower my head to her mouth.

'The King of Navarre,' she murmured-you are sure, Gaston--he will retain
you is your--employments?'

Her pleading eyes were so close to mine, I felt no scruples such as some
might have felt, seeing her so near death; but I answered firmly and
cheerfully, 'Madame, I am assured of it. There is no prince in Europe so
trustworthy or so good to his servants.'

She sighed with infinite content, and blessed him in a feeble whisper.
'And if you live,' she went on, 'you will rebuild the old house, Gaston.
The walls are sound yet. And the oak in the hall