e the light lasted, I pushed
cautiously forward through the trees and came in less than five minutes
within sight of a corner of the chateau, which I found to be a modern
building of the time of Henry II., raised, like the houses of that
time, for pleasure rather than defence, and decorated with many handsome
casements and tourelles. Despite this, it wore, as I saw it, a grey and
desolate air, due in part to the loneliness of the situation and the
lateness of the hour; and in part, I think, to the smallness of the
household maintained, for no one was visible on the terrace or at the
windows. The rain dripped from the trees, which on two sides pressed so
closely on the house as almost to darken the rooms, and everything I
saw encouraged me to hope that mademoiselle's wishes would second my
entreaties, and incline her to lend a ready ear to my story.

The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to me to
proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young lady, a kinswoman
of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already introduced to the
pleasures of the Court, would elect of her own free will to spend the
winter in so dreary a solitude.

Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode cautiously
round the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the trees, had no
difficulty in discovering at the north-east corner the balcony of which
I had been told. It was semi-circular in shape, with a stone balustrade,
and hung some fifteen feet above a terraced walk which ran below it, and
was separated from the chase by a low sunk fence.

I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the
coldness of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony was
open. Nor was this all. Luck was in store for me at last. I had not
gazed at the window more than a minute, calculating its height and other
particulars, when, to my great joy, a female figure, closely hooded,
stepped out and stood looking up at the sky. I was too far off to be
able to discern by that uncertain light whether this was Mademoiselle de
la Vire or her woman; but the attitude was so clearly one of dejection
and despondency, that I felt sure it was either one or the other.
Determined not to let the opportunity slip, I dismounted hastily
and, leaving the Cid loose, advanced on foot until I stood within
half-a-dozen paces of the window.

At that point the watcher became aware of me. She started back, but did
not withdraw. Still pee