CHAPTER XVII.
It was once more night--dark, solemn, and sad: the country was a wideundulating plain raised high above the course of the river, whichmight be heard, swelled by the melting of the snows and the heavyrains that had lately fallen, rushing on with a hoarse murmur throughits hollow banks. No hedge-rows, as in England, diversified the sceneby daylight, or gave, even in the obscurity of night, that appearanceof care and culture which always brings with it the idea of comfort.On the contrary, all was bleak, wide, and desolate. The sight lostitself in the dark expanse, except where part of a distant villagemight be faintly seen by a sort of lurid glare that hung over it,rising in black masses against the sky upon the right, with its tallyet heavy spire towering above the rest, and where, towards the left,an indefinite something, confused and vague, rested upon the horizon,as if the rounded tops of trees bounded the plain in that direction.Such was the scene through which Louis de Montigni travelled slowlywith Rose d'Albret on the night of the 15th. She was weary, exhausted,anxious; and he, with his heart sinking on her account, looked forwardinto the deep and sombre scene before him, seeking some object to givehope of repose and shelter, but finding little to encourage orconsole.
Suddenly a light flitted along by the side of the village, feeble andsmall as a glow-worm's lamp: but still it raised expectation; and DeMontigni said in a low voice, "Surely, that must be St. Andr?."
"Perhaps the King may not be there either, Louis," replied Rose in afaint tone: "all these reports may be as false as that he was atAnnet. But, whatever be the case, De Montigni, I fear I must stop atthe first houses; for, to say truth, I can go no farther."
"I wish we had not quitted Annet, my beloved," exclaimed the youngnobleman; "but see, there are more lights. 'Tis this orchard that hidthem. Yes, yes! dear Rose, we are at length coming near the camp."
"Thank God!" replied Rose d'Albret: but she said no more; for with thesense of relief which she experienced at the thought of finding reposeeven for a night, were mingled manifold doubts and apprehensionsregarding the future, as well as all the complicated emotions whichmight well thrill through a woman's heart, at the idea of presentingherself before the many eyes of a strange court, under suchcircumstances, and at such a moment.
As they advanced, and turned the low wall of a small farm, a new scenebroke upon their sight. The village, which was extensive, stretchedaway to the right; and, amongst the gardens and orchards, a thousandlights were to be seen, either passing along from one place to anotheras officers and messengers sped from regiment to regiment, or fixedthough flickering in one place, where the soldiery had lighted firesto keep themselves warm during the night and to dry their clothing,wetted by the frequent showers which had diversified the day.
Sounds innumerable too met the ear as they came nearer,--first a faintnoise, then a mingled roar like the rushing of a torrent; and thenvarious noises began to detach themselves from the rest,--loudlaughter--the merry song--the solemn hymn--the hoarse shout--the wordof command--the call of one companion to another--the hammering of theblacksmith's anvil--the groaning of the forge--the clash of steel, asthe armourers and farriers plied the busy stroke, repairing arms andshoeing horses, and once or twice the shrill blast of the trumpet.
No challenge was given as they rode on, for the position of the enemywas now exactly ascertained, and surprise was not expected; but one ortwo of the officers advanced to the side of the road from theneighbouring gardens, and gazed for an instant upon the passing troop,to see if they recognised any friends amongst the new comers, as thelight of the watch-fire flashed upon their faces.
Notwithstanding fatigue, anxiety, and fear, Rose d'Albret could notbut feel the excitement of the scene. Sometimes guarded by palisades,sometimes sheltered by the low walls, sometimes in the open field,they passed innumerable groups of soldiers seated round their fires,and just concluding their evening meal. Marks of toil and strife wereon the faces of all, whether of the gay Catholic or the stern andrigid Huguenot; and no glittering coats of arms, no jewels andembroidery were there, nothing but cold grey steel, and buff coats,and caps rusty with long exposure to the rain, and scarred andweather-beaten countenances, on which, however, sat an expression ofconfidence and fearless preparation, which is often an omen ofsuccess.
Round some of the fires the veterans were telling tales of formerwars, and victories long since achieved. At others, one selected forhis voice or skill, was singing; and, whether Papist or Protestant,whether his song was the gay ballad of the day, or one of thecanticles of the Reformers, it still spoke the fearless expectation oftriumph.
At a slow pace, for the weary horses could hardly drag their limbsalong, De Montigni and the lady advanced till they reached theentrance of the village; but here a guarded barricade opposed theirfurther progress; and, as they could not give the word, the soldiersrefused them admission.
"I am seeking the King," said the young nobleman; "send hither theofficer of the watch as fast as you can; for we are very weary andmust have repose."
Even as he spoke, a plain old man, whose dress betokened some rank inthe army, approached the barrier, and replied to the last words he haduttered by saying, "Good faith, young gentleman! you will find nolodging in St. Andr?. Two thirds of us are obliged to sleep in thestreets. There is not a dog-kennel untenanted."
"It is not for myself, Sir, that I care," answered De Montigni, "butfor this lady, who in truth can go no further. At all events, I mustsee the King, if you will kindly cause him to be informed that theBaron de Montigni is here."
The old officer gazed in the face of Rose d'Albret with a look ofinquiry, not rude but compassionate; and after a moment's pause heanswered, "I think, Monsieur de Montigni, the King expected you. Therewas a messenger arrived an hour ago from the Commander de Liancourt,and your name was mentioned, I know; but I am sorry to say his Majestyis not now in the village, and may not return for some hours. You willfind him about a league hence, placing the artillery.--But stay! Iwill make inquiries: there may be some orders left for you. Here,Jacques, run up to the King's quarters, and tell them that Monsieur deMontigni is here. Ask what his Majesty said about him.--Ah, my pooryoung lady, you look tired enough," he continued, as the soldier spedaway; "and yet I cannot ask you to alight and repose yourself, forevery cottage is filled to the door with soldiery--a rude scene forsuch as you. I can give you some refreshment, however," he addedsuddenly, as if the thought had only just struck him. "Here, D'Avesne,D'Avesne! run in and get out some wine. In the pannier behind thedoor, you will find a bottle of good old burgundy and a horn cup:bring them hither, quick. There, stand back, good fellows! Did younever see a tired party come in? They do not want your company."
The last words were addressed to three or four idlers who hadsauntered up, and, leaning their folded arms upon the barricade, werestaring rudely at Rose d'Albret and her companions. They now, however,walked away with a laugh, which made the warm colour come back intopoor Rose's cheek, as she felt herself the object of scorn rather thanpity. The moment after, the man who had been sent for the winereturned, and after much persuasion from De Montigni she took some,though it tasted hot and burning to her parched lips rather thanrefreshing. It seemed to revive her a little, however, when she hadswallowed it; and she saw that there would be need of all herremaining strength: for the picture which imagination had painted of aroyal camp, and of immediate admission to the King's pavilion, and ofa brilliant circle of nobles forming his court, had by this time allfaded away; and she found sterner realities and more homely, but notless painful annoyances in place.
It was nearly ten minutes before the man sent to the King's quartersreturned; and they seemed hours to Rose d'Albret; but when he didcome, he turned to his officer, saying, "They are to go to the farm atMainville; and the King will see Monsieur de Montigni to-morrowmorning. He is to wait there without stirring till he hears more."
"But where is Mainville?" asked De Montigni, almost in despair at theidea of poor Rose having to travel further that night: "if it b
edistant, we shall never reach it. The lady now, as you see, can hardlysit her horse."
"'Tis half a league, down by the river," answered the old officer:"but stay--we can help the lady. Have out the hand litter on whichthey brought Jules de Sourdis from Dreux. Get out a party of bearers,Jacques. We will soon manage that for you, young gentleman; and acrown-piece will make the men go willingly. They will serve forguides, too; for in this dark night you would never find it. But, inthe meantime, she had better dismount, and rest upon this bench. Youseem sadly weary, lady: have you come far?"
"Many leagues," replied Rose, as De Montigni sprang to the ground byher side to lift her from her horse. "I thank you much for yourkindness, Sir," she continued, still addressing the old officer. "I donot think I could ride another hour to save life itself."
Seated upon a bench by the side of the barricade, which had beenopened to give her admission, with the light of a large watch-fire,and two resin torches casting a flickering glare over the figures ofthe soldiery as they came and went, wearied, exhausted, faint, andsick at heart, Rose d'Albret remained for several minutes with herfair head bent down, and her hand dropping as if powerless by herside. At length, however, a light seemed to come in her dark eyes, awarm and well-pleased smile crossed her lip, and she raised her fairface towards De Montigni, who stood beside her, with a look of renewedhope and satisfaction which he did not comprehend.
The reader too may ask what it was that seemed so suddenly to reviveher? what it was that called up that expression of pleasure andrelief? It was not that she saw any friendly form. It was not that sheheard any well-known voice. The cause was in no external things, butin her own mind. As she sat there, she had felt deeply and bitterlyall that was painful in her situation, with lassitude of limb andsickening heart, fears, anxieties, and gloomy anticipations, whichevery sight, and sound, and circumstance, tended but to increase. Herthoughts and her sensations had been full of all that is sad anddepressing, when suddenly, she had asked herself, if she could recallthe last eight-and-forty hours, return to the mansion of her guardian,lay her head on the pillow of luxury and ease, remove afar peril, anddifficulty, and terror, and weariness, become the promised wife ofNicholas de Chazeul, and give up Louis de Montigni for ever, would shedo it? Her heart answered the question in a moment--no! Whatever shemight suffer, was light in comparison. All that she had undergone, allthat she endured, lost half its weight when she remembered that shewas free--that she was with him she loved; and looking up, as I havesaid, in his face with a heart lightened and grateful, she felt thatto share poverty, sorrow, flight, exile, care, with him, would stillhave joy enough to compensate for all.
De Montigni could not, of course, see what was passing in her mind;but still there was a look of affection in her eyes which was not tobe mistaken, which told him that she was thinking of him, and that shedid not regret what she suffered on his account; and, bending down hishead, he spoke those words of tenderness and love which well repaidher for her endurance and her sacrifices.
Shortly after the litter was brought forward, with four stout men tobear it. It was apparently a rude and hastily contrived machine, inwhich some wounded man had been brought from the siege of Dreux, witha little sort of tilt over it to shelter him from the wet; but thelower part, or couch, was thickly covered with dry hay, over which theold officer cast his cloak; and De Montigni, placing Rose in it,thanked their new friend warmly for his assistance; and, walking bythe lady's side, issued forth from the village of St. Andr?, and wassoon once more wandering on in the darkness of the night.
The lights were speedily left behind, the glare of the watch-firesfaded, or were hidden one after the other by the windings of the road;nothing but a faint reddish streak in the sky showed the position ofthe village and the camp. The busy sounds of the army too died awayinto an indistinct hum, like that of a swarm of bees, and then waslost to the ear altogether; while the voice of the swollen Eure,murmuring as it rushed along, was the only noise that broke upon theear of night.
The way grew narrower and narrower as they went along, so that it wassometimes with difficulty that De Montigni kept by the litter. But yethe would not leave the side of Rose d'Albret, cheering her from timeto time by words of affection and of hope, till at length he saw theglistening of the water before him, as they descended the steep hill,on the table land of which, the fields of Dreuy and Ivry are situated;and in a moment after, a single light, apparently streaming from thewindow of some house, showed him that they were approaching a humanhabitation.
"That is Mainville, Sir," said one of the bearers. "Ah, you are welloff! for there are comfortable quarters there by the side of the ford:but the King would suffer none of our people to lodge more than aquarter of a league from the field, for fear the enemy should getpossession of his ground early in the morning. You late comerssometimes get the best accommodation."
"Is the enemy so near, then?" asked De Montigni.
"Near!" cried the man, "why, we were two hours in presence thisafternoon; and everyone thought they would have begun the battle; butnone were engaged but the light horse, who had a short fight for thebottom of the valley."
De Montigni mused for the rest of the way; for he loved not to be sonear a field of battle without taking part in it; and yet he had noarms but the sword he wore, nor horses in a fit state to bear himthrough a long day's fight.
A few minutes, however, brought them to the door of the farmhouse,where they had to knock for some time before any one appeared toanswer them. The first sight of life within, was the head of a man,protruded from a window above, with the faces of two women lookingover his shoulder.
"Who's there?" he cried; "is that the King?"
"No, no, Gros Jean!" replied one of the men, who had come with themfrom St. Andr?. "The King has something else to do than visit you atthis hour, even to see your pretty wife," and he added a loud laugh,in which the farmer good-humouredly joined. "Come down, come down,Gros Jean!" he continued; "these are the people his Majesty told youhe would quarter upon you--two regiments of horse and three companiesof infantry."
"Go along, buffoon," said the farmer; "the King never said he wouldquarter anybody on me, but two or three ladies and gentlemen."
"Well, these are they," replied the soldier; "so come down and openthe door, or, on my life, we will break it down. We have got to fightto-morrow, and cannot stand here talking all night. It's the Baron deMontigni, I tell you, and his lady."
"Well, wait a minute," said the farmer, withdrawing his head; and in afew moments they heard bolts and bars removed, and the door wasopened. There was still a little doubt and apprehension in the goodround countenance of the jolly farmer; but the sight of the litter,with De Montigni standing beside it, clothed in the common ridingcostume of the day, speedily took away his fears; and, calling forwardhis wife and sister to welcome the lady, he showed every sort ofalacrity that could be desired in providing for the comfort of hisguests.
"Here is a room to sit in," he said, as De Montigni assisted Rose fromthe litter, and drew her arm through his own, to give her support."Dear heart, lady, you seem tired enough, and as if you had been wetthrough too. Take the light, wife, and show the gentlefolks the way."Thus saying, he led them on into a good wide room, where he and hisfarming men were wont to take their meals; and then, opening a doorwhich gave admission to another chamber, he said, "And here's yourbed-room, with as comfortable a bed as any in all Normandy."
"I shall keep watch in the hall, my good friend," replied De Montigni;"but Mademoiselle d'Albret will go to repose, I dare say, directly;for that is what she needs more than anything else, if these twoladies will kindly give her their attendance. A bundle or two ofstraw, thrown down in the corner there, will do for me and my men;but, as there are seven of them, and hungry enough too, I doubt not,by this time, you had better give them some wine and some provision.Whatever I take," he added, in a significant tone, seeing that thefarmer was somewhat confounded at the number of his undesired guests,"I will pay for on the spot." r />
Gros Jean, as the Royalist soldier had called him, scratched his roundhead for a moment, and then replied, "I thought that you had been manand wife, from the King's message; but, however, as he said ladies,and there seems but one, there is another little room up stairs, and agood bed too, which you had better have, Sir."
"No, no," replied De Montigni, "I will stay in the hall, if you willgive me some straw.--We will be your guard during the darkness,dearest Rose," he added, pressing her hand in his, "so take a cup ofwarm milk, if it can be procured, and lie down to rest for this night,at least, in peace and security. I must go now to speak to these goodfellows without."
"Let me see you again for a moment, Louis, before I sleep," said Rose,gazing in his face with an anxious look; "you will not be longabsent?"
"Not five minutes, my beloved," replied De Montigni; and, leaving herwith the farmer's wife and sister, he went out to speak with the menwho had carried the litter from St. Andr?.
Let not the reader think, with the cold spirit of censure which is soready at all times to blame everything that is not customary in ourown times and in our own country, that there was aught unusual orimproper in the invitation which Rose d'Albret had given her lover tovisit her in her bed-chamber. In those days, though certainly notpurer than the present--and bad enough are both--the commonreception-room of a lady, especially in Paris, was that in which sheslept. Often before she quitted her chamber, too, in England, as wellas in France, the beauty of the hour received her train of admirers,in her bed; and, every art of coquetry was displayed, to win orincrease admiration, as she lay in what was supposed to be thetoilette of the night, but which had often cost her and her maids morethan one hour of labour to arrange and render becoming. Such was not,indeed, the custom of Rose d'Albret, but still the habits of thecountry and the period would not have suffered her to feel that shewas committing the slightest impropriety in admitting her lover to herroom, even after she had retired to rest, nor would she have doubtedthe safety of her honour in the hands of De Montigni, under anycircumstances of opportunity, or, of temptation. She knew him well,with that knowledge of the heart which perhaps can only be acquired bythe intimacy of early youth, and she was certain that nothing on earthwould induce him to blemish the being he loved, were there no eye butthat of God to witness his actions.
The first task of De Montigni, when he had found the men whoaccompanied him thither, was to reward them fully for the trouble thatthey had taken. They had already removed the litter into the road;and, after having given his own attendants orders to carry in thelittle baggage they had brought, he drew the chief of thelitter-bearers aside, and questioned him eagerly as to the hour atwhich the battle was expected to take place on the following day.
"Not before noon," replied the man, "for the Duke and his people haveretreated beyond Ivry, we hear; and that's a two leagues' march."
"Then I may have time to get horses and arms," said De Montignijoyfully. "I must not be so near, my friend, without having some sharein this matter. Here is another crown for you, and if you can send medown an armourer, and some of those men who generally follow campswith horses for sale, they may find a good market."
"What arms do you want, Monsieur le Baron?" asked the soldier; "youwill not find them easily. One might get a casque and a cuirass foryourself, with pistols, and such things, but I doubt your obtainingmuch more."
"I must take what can be found," answered De Montigni. "I would fain,indeed, arm my men, likewise; but, at all events, I will be presentmyself, if I go in my pourpoint."
"A dangerous trick that, Monsieur de Montigni," said a voice near,which the young nobleman thought he recognised; "but you must not trythat experiment. His Majesty monopolizes all such follies as that, andsuffers no one to fight in their pourpoints but himself."
"Ha! Monsieur de Chasseron," said De Montigni, "is that you?"
"It is, indeed," replied Chasseron. "I am here before you, you see;and I will get you arms, if you want them; but in the meantime youmust do me a service.--Take up the litter, good fellow, and away," hecontinued, turning abruptly to the man who had been speaking with DeMontigni; "I will see to what this young gentleman wants. No answer,but away. Now, Monsieur le Baron--So you have arrived safe; you havebrought the lady with you, I suppose, by seeing the litter."
"I have," answered De Montigni; "but she is well nigh dead fromfatigue."
"'Tis a long way," said Chasseron; "but when I gave the advice, theKing was at Dreux, some seven leagues nearer."
"Even now," answered De Montigni, "I have not been able to see HisMajesty."
"What, he is absent?" said Chasseron; "ay, he is always running about.Parbleu! I fear the enemy will catch him some day, if he does not getwiser with years. However, you remain quiet where you are to-night;the King shall have notice of your being here, for I have a fewfriends at the court, and you shall hear from him to-morrow; in themeantime, I will procure you what arms you need, though, good faith,you must pay for them yourself, for I have spent all my money in hisMajesty's service, and have scarcely a cross left in my purse."
"That I am quite prepared to do," replied De Montigni; "but I couldhave much wished to have seen the King to-night."
"That is impossible," cried Chasseron, in his usual rapid manner. "Butwhat do you want with him? I will get Monsieur de Biron to ask it foryou; he will see none but his generals after his return."
"I much wished," replied the young nobleman, in a lower tone, "toobtain his Majesty's written sanction to my marriage with Mademoiselled'Albret; but, of course, he will need long explanations and proof ofthe contract between her father and my uncle."
"Oh, I know not that," replied Chasseron; "he will be glad enough togive her to a Royalist, rather than a Leaguer. At all events, we willtry for you. It's as well that, while you are thus wandering abouttogether, you should have the holy bond of matrimony round your necks,if you must needs poke your heads into it; and who can tell whatto-morrow may bring forth? God's purposes are dark and wonderful," hecontinued, in a more solemn tone. "We none of us know what is good forourselves or others. It may please Him, Most High, still further tochastise this poor land of France, and even the King himself, foraught we know, if raised by a great victory, might forget his formercharacter, and prove a scourge, instead of a blessing."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed De Montigni, vehemently, "never believe it. Morethan forty years of noble and upright dealing with all men, of lovefor his people, of generous forbearance, and high-hearted kindness,may well be warrant to the most suspicious for his conduct in time tocome. Do not suspect him, Monsieur de Chasseron."
"I do not," replied the other, laying his hand emphatically on theyoung man's arm; "but I say still, God only knows what is good andwhat is evil for the land of France; and He it is who must decide thefate of all to-morrow. However," he continued, "it is well you shouldbe prepared, and we will make the trial for you, whether it succeedsor not. Good night; I must hasten back, for I have much to do."
He turned away as he spoke; but De Montigni stopped him, saying,"There was some service you said I could render you."
"Ay, parbleu! I had forgot," replied Chasseron. "There is a younglady, Monsieur de Montigni, who has been ill treated and injured bythose who ought to have protected her. She is here, in the midst ofthe camp; and though, to say truth, I know little of her, yet I amsure, she deserves not all that has fallen upon her. She has appliedto me for protection and assistance, but I am in no condition to giveher what she seeks, effectually. Were I to send her to the village,ill tongues might fall upon us both unreasonably. There is no woman incamp but your fair lady here, and love makes a man kind-heartedtowards others of the sex that has enthralled him. If then you wouldgive this girl protection, and aid, in case of need, I should feelgrateful, and you would do a good act towards one who, God help her,has few to take her part. From injury I could protect her; from insultand grief, it would need much time and attention, to defend her, wereshe to take up her dwelling in the camp; and though woman m
ay cling toman as her support and stay, she has no true companionship but withwoman. Will you then beseech your sweet lady love to befriend her, andlet her pass the night in the farm?"
"Willingly," replied De Montigni; "but where is she?"
"Oh, at a cottage hard by, above," answered Chasseron; "she has beenthere since last night; when we had a rougher journey than even youhave had. I will send her down immediately by some of my men, who arethere at the top of the hill. So once more, good night, and God speedus all to-morrow."
Thus saying he turned away, and De Montigni trod back his steps to thefarm, musing over the request that had been made, and the promise hehad given. It was not that he doubted, it was not that he entertainedsuspicions; his mind was too clear and free from that fatalexperience, which mingles the dark drop with the brightest cup oflife, to entertain one injurious thought; but the responsibility, thecare that already rested upon him, was enough to weigh him down. Hisanxiety for her he loved, his longing desire to remain with her, neverto leave her, till she was placed in security, contending with hisstrong and overpowering desire to be present at the struggle which wasapproaching, surrounded him with difficulties enough; and now theywere to be increased by the presence of a third, placed under hisprotection for the time, and demanding from any one of kindly andcourteous feeling equal care and attention. He could have wished itotherwise: but still he felt that he could not have refused, and hehastened back into the house to tell Rose d'Albret of what hadoccurred, and to ask her countenance and sympathy for the stranger.
De Montigni found his men already in possession of the hall, with thegood farmer busily employed in placing food and drink before them,encouraged to produce the best of his store by his young guest'sliberality towards the bearers of the litter; for nothing flies sofast as the report of a generous spirit. He passed through them,without notice, however, and knocking at the door of Mademoiselled'Albret's chamber, was at once admitted by the farmer's sister. DeMontigni's tale was soon told; and notwithstanding her weariness, Roselistened with all that tender interest, which the heart of a kind andgentle woman, unhardened by either the vicissitudes, or the vices ofthe great world, is sure to feel in the misfortunes of a sister.
"Oh bring her hither whenever she comes," exclaimed the lady, as soonas he had done. "Poor thing, she has suffered as well as we have, andperhaps far more severely, Louis. I will keep my eyes open till I seeher, though they are heavy; but if I should be asleep, you must wakeme, De Montigni. Promise me that you will."
"If you wish it, dear one," replied her lover; "but these good peoplewill, I am sure, show her every kindness."
"No, no," answered Rose d'Albret, "I would not have her find a coldreception for the world. Oh, De Montigni, what would I have given, aswe stood before the barrier at St. Andr?, to have met a woman to speakkindly to me, and tell me to take comfort?"
"Well, then, I will wake you, sweet, kind girl," said De Montigni;"but I do not think she will be long; for he said she was hard by."
Perhaps the lover would fain have lingered beside his fair promisedbride; but after a few more words Chasseron withdrew into the hall,and conversed for a short time with the people who had accompanied himfrom Marzay. Scarcely five minutes passed ere the farmer, who hadremained with them, was summoned to the door, and returned the momentafter, with a fair and beautiful girl, in her first youth, who gazedwildly round upon the strange faces as she entered. De Montigni,however, instantly advanced towards her, and took her by the hand,saying, "Do not be alarmed. We are all friends."
"Friends?" said the poor girl, "friends?"
"Yes, indeed," replied the young nobleman; "but come with me, there isa lady in the next room, waiting anxiously to see you;" and he led heron to the door. The good farmer's sister was still in the room ofMademoiselle d'Albret; but Rose had by this time sought her couch,though she had not yet fallen asleep; and when De Montigni and hisfair companion were admitted, she raised herself upon her arm andgazed at the stranger for an instant, shading her eyes with her hand.The next moment, with a look of utter astonishment, she exclaimed,"Helen!--Helen de la Tremblade! Good heaven, dear Helen, can it beyou?"
The poor girl paused, trembled, wavered for a moment, as if she wouldfain have retreated from the room; but then, running forward, she castherself upon her knees by the side of Rose's bed, and burying her facein the clothes seemed to sob convulsively. Rose d'Albret cast her armround her tenderly; and De Montigni, seeing that there were deepersorrows in their fair visitor's bosom than he had imagined, withdrewfrom the room, and closed the door. The farmer's sister followed in afew minutes, and Helen de la Tremblade was left alone with Rosed'Albret.