ring down at me, she called softly to some one
inside the chamber, and immediately a second figure, taller and stouter,
appeared. I had already doffed my cap, and I now, in a low voice, begged
to know if I had the honour of speaking to Mademoiselle de la Vire. In
the growing darkness it was impossible to distinguish faces.

'Hush!' the stouter figure muttered in a tone of warning. 'Speak lower.
Who are you, and what do you here?'

'I am here,' I answered respectfully, 'commissioned by a friend of the
lady I have named, to convey her to a place of safety.'

'Mon dieu!' was the sharp answer. 'Now? It is impossible.'

'No,' I murmured, 'not now, but to-night. The moon rises at half-past
two. My horses need rest and food. At three I will be below this window
with the means of escape, if mademoiselle choose to use them.'

I felt that they were staring at me through the dusk, as though they
would read my breast. 'Your name, sir?' the shorter figure murmured at
last, after a pause which was full of suspense and excitement.

'I do not think my name of much import at present, Mademoiselle,' I
answered, reluctant to proclaim myself a stranger. 'When--'

'Your name, your name, sir!' she repeated imperiously, and I heard her
little heel rap upon the stone floor of the balcony.

'Gaston de Marsac,' I answered unwillingly.

They both started, and cried out together. 'Impossible!' the last
speaker exclaimed, amazement and anger in her tone, 'This is a jest,
sir. This--'

What more she would have said I was left to guess, for at that moment
her attendant I had no doubt now which was mademoiselle and which
Fanchette--suddenly laid her hand on her mistress's mouth and pointed
to the room behind them. A second's suspense, and with a wanting gesture
the two turned and disappeared through the window.

I lost no time in regaining the shelter of the trees; and concluding,
though I was far from satisfied with the interview, that I could do
nothing more now, but might rather, by loitering in the neighbourhood,
awaken suspicion, I remounted and made for the highway and the village,
where I found my men in noisy occupation of the inn, a poor place, with
unglazed windows, and a fire in the middle of the earthen floor.
My first care wets to stable the Cid in a shed at the back, where I
provided for its wants as far as I could with the aid of a half-naked
boy, who seemed to be in hiding there.

This done, I returned to the front of the