eeps asking Diana for a lock of her hair," said the widow.

Helena smiled mournfully, for her hair was as fine as Diana's and of the
same color. Then an idea struck her, and she said, "Take this purse of
gold for yourself. I will give Diana three thousand crowns if she will
help me to carry out this plan. Let her promise to give a lock of her
hair to my husband if he will give her the ring which he wears on his
finger. It is an ancestral ring. Five Counts of Rousillon have worn it,
yet he will yield it up for a lock of your daughter's hair. Let your
daughter insist that he shall cut the lock of hair from her in a dark
room, and agree in advance that she shall not speak a single word."

The widow listened attentively, with the purse of gold in her lap. She
said at last, "I consent, if Diana is willing."

Diana was willing, and, strange to say, the prospect of cutting off
a lock of hair from a silent girl in a dark room was so pleasing to
Bertram that he handed Diana his ring, and was told when to follow her
into the dark room. At the time appointed he came with a sharp knife,
and felt a sweet face touch his as he cut off the lock of hair, and he
left the room satisfied, like a man who is filled with renown, and on
his finger was a ring which the girl in the dark room had given him.

The war was nearly over, but one of its concluding chapters taught
Bertram that the soldier who had been impudent enough to call Helena his
"kicky-wicky" was far less courageous than a wife. Parolles was such
a boaster, and so fond of trimings to his clothes, that the French
officers played him a trick to discover what he was made of. He had lost
his drum, and had said that he would regain it unless he was killed in
the attempt. His attempt was a very poor one, and he was inventing the
story of a heroic failure, when he was surrounded and disarmed.

"Portotartarossa," said a French lord.

"What horrible lingo is this?" thought Parolles, who had been
blindfolded.

"He's calling for the tortures," said a French man, affecting to act as
interpreter. "What will you say without 'em?"

"As much," replied Parolles, "as I could possibly say if you pinched me
like a pasty." He was as good as his word. He told them how many there
were in each regiment of the Florentine army, and he refreshed them with
spicy anecdotes of the officers commanding it.

Bertram was present, and heard a letter read, in which Parolles told
Diana that he was a fool.