She stood silent for a little, and he could see her lips tremble
and her tearless eyes burn with a feverish lustre. Then she

pressed her forehead in both hands.
"Alas, how my head aches!" she said wearily - "to say nothing of my

poor heart! But it is due to you to know my story, unmaidenly as
it must seem. I am called Blanche de Maletroit; I have been

without father or mother for - oh! for as long as I can recollect,
and indeed I have been most unhappy all my life. Three months ago

a young captain began to stand near me every day in church. I
could see that I pleased him; I am much to blame, but I was so glad

that any one should love me; and when he passed me a letter, I took
it home with me and read it with great pleasure. Since that time

he has written many. He was so anxious to speak with me, poor
fellow! and kept asking me to leave the door open some evening that

we might have two words upon the stair. For he knew how much my
uncle trusted me." She gave something like a sob at that, and it

was a moment before she could go on. "My uncle is a hard man, but
he is very shrewd," she said at last. "He has performed many feats

in war, and was a great person at court, and much trusted by Queen
Isabeau in old days. How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but

it is hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this morning,
as we came from mass, he took my hand in his, forced it open, and

read my little billet, walking by my side all the while. When he
had finished, he gave it back to me with great politeness. It

contained another request to have the door left open; and this has
been the ruin of us all. My uncle kept me strictly in my room

until evening, and then ordered me to dress myself as you see me -
a hard mockery for a young girl, do you not think so? I suppose,

when he could not prevail with me to tell him the young captain's
name, he must have laid a trap for him: into which, alas! you have

fallen in the anger of God. I looked for much confusion; for how
could I tell whether he was willing to take me for his wife on

these sharp terms? He might have been trifling with me from the
first; or I might have made myself too cheap in his eyes. But

truly I had not looked for such a shamefulpunishment as this! I
could not think that God would let a girl be so disgraced before a

young man. And now I have told you all; and I can scarcely hope
that you will not despise me."

Denis made her a respectfulinclination.
"Madam," he said, "you have honoured me by your confidence. It

remains for me to prove that I am not unworthy of the honour. Is
Messire de Maletroit at hand?"

"I believe he is writing in the salle without," she answered.
"May I lead you thither, madam?" asked Denis, offering his hand

with his most courtly bearing.
She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in

a very drooping and shamefast condition, but Denis strutting and
ruffling in the consciousness of a mission, and the boyish

certainty of accomplishing it with honour.
The Sire de Maletroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance.

"Sir," said Denis, with the grandest possible air, "I believe I am
to have some say in the matter of this marriage; and let me tell

you at once, I will be no party to forcing the inclination of this
young lady. Had it been freely offered to me, I should have been

proud to accept her hand, for I perceive she is as good as she is
beautiful; but as things are, I have now the honour, messire, of

refusing."
Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; but the old

gentleman only smiled and smiled, until his smile grew positively
sickening to Denis.

"I am afraid," he said, "Monsieur de Beaulieu, that you do not
perfectly understand the choice I have to offer you. Follow me, I

beseech you, to this window." And he led the way to one of the
large windows which stood open on the night. "You observe," he

went on, "there is an iron ring in the upper masonry, and reeved
through that, a very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words; if you

should find your disinclination to my niece's person
insurmountable, I shall have you hanged out of this window before

sunrise. I shall only proceed to such an extremity with the
greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is not at all your

death that I desire, but my niece's establishment in life. At the
same time, it must come to that if you prove obstinate. Your

family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you
sprang from Charlemagne, you should not refuse the hand of a

Maletroit with impunity - not if she had been as common as the
Paris road - not if she were as hideous as the gargoyle over my

door. Neither my niece nor you, nor my own private feelings, move
me at all in this matter. The honour of my house has been

compromised; I believe you to be the guilty person; at least you
are now in the secret; and you can hardly wonder if I request you

to wipe out the stain. If you will not, your blood be on your own
head! It will be no great satisfaction to me to have your

interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze below my
windows; but half a loaf is better than no bread, and if I cannot

cure the dishonour, I shall at least stop the scandal."
There was a pause.

"I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among
gentlemen," said Denis. "You wear a sword, and I hear you have

used it with distinction."
The Sire de Maletroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed

the room with long silent strides and raised the arras over the
third of the three doors. It was only a moment before he let it

fall again; but Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed
men.

"When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to
honour you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said Sire Alain; "but I am now

too old. Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must
employ the strength I have. This is one of the hardest things to

swallow as a man grows up in years; but with a little patience,
even this becomes habitual. You and the lady seem to prefer the

salle for what remains of your two hours; and as I have no desire
to cross your preference, I shall resign it to your use with all

the pleasure in the world. No haste!" he added, holding up his
hand, as he saw a dangerous look come into Denis de Beaulieu's

face. "If your mind revolts against hanging, it will be time
enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the window or upon

the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life are always two hours.
A great many things may turn up in even as little a while as that.

And, besides, if I understand her appearance, my niece has still
something to say to you. You will not disfigure your last hours by

a want of politeness to a lady?"
Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture.

It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased at this
symptom of an understanding; for he smiled on both, and added

sweetly: "If you will give me your word of honour, Monsieur de
Beaulieu, to await my return at the end of the two hours before

attempting anything desperate, I shall withdraw my retainers, and
let you speak in greater privacy with mademoiselle."

Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to
agree.

"I give you my word of honour," he said.
Messire de Maletroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the

apartment, clearing his throat the while with that odd musical
chirp which had already grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de

Beaulieu. He first possessed himself of some papers which lay upon
the table; then he went to the mouth of the passage and appeared to

give an order to the men behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled
out through the door by which Denis had come in, turning upon the

threshold to address a last smiling bow to the young couple, and