leave—at once. M. de Greville will take those letters from you by force or guile. Oh, tarry not, there has been so much of blood, and this place so seeming fair; the assassin, the poison and prison houses."
The eloquence of fear trembled in her words. Half starting forward I drank in every syllable, not for the warning she would fain convey, but for their sweetness. All I could realize for the moment was that she had sought me, sought me freely. Then she was gone. Swiftly, noiselessly as she came, she disappeared. The distant flutter of her skirts among the sombre trees marked the path she went. Through it all I spoke no word, returning, as one who has received an angel's visit, to my reverie.
I was not suffered long to spend my time alone. The old beau, de Virelle, in his bluff and hearty way directed the attention of a party of ladies who were with him to where I hung over a marble balustrade enraptured at the broad expanse of valley, rosy tinted with the hues of ebbing light, boundless as the dim horizon of my own sweet dreams.
"By my faith, Captain, you should have heard the clamour over your departure. Already famous, and so soon weary of your laurels. Ah! a tryst," he exclaimed. "Verily you do better than I thought," for he had picked up a muslin handkerchief, edged with lace, which sought in vain to hide itself among the leaves. So busied had I been it escaped my notice. Instinctively I reclaimed the prize and with no gentle