they been
descending from the higher slopes of the country of which the
chateau-mount was the loftiest point and now were passing through the
lower stretches of land.

Here, the highway ran above fields, inundated by recent rains, and
marshes converted into shining lakes. Out of the water uprose a grove
of trees, spectral-like; screaming wild-fowl skimmed the surface, or
circled above. The pastoral peace of the meadows, garden of the wild
flower and home of the song-bird, was replaced by a waste of desolation
and wilderness. Long they dashed on through the loneliness of that
land; a depressing flight--but more depressing than the abandoned and
forlorn aspect of the scene was the consciousness that their steeds had
become road-worn and were unable to respond. Long, long, they
continued this pace, a strained period of suspense, and then the fool
drew rein.

"Look, Jacqueline," he said. "The river!"

Before them, fed by the rivulets from the distant hills, the foaming
current threatened to overflow its banks. Already the rising waters
touched the flimsy wooden structure that spanned the torrent.
Contemplatively he regarded it, and then placing his hand for a moment
on hers, said encouragingly:

"Perhaps, after all, we are borrowing trouble?"

She shook her head. "If I could but think it," she answered.
Something seemed to rise in her throat. "A moment I forgot, and--was
not unhappy! But now I feel as though the end was closing about us."

He tightened his grasp. "You are worn with fatigue; fanciful!" he
replied.

"The end!" she repeated, passionately. "Yes; the end!" And threw off
his hand. "Look!"

He followed her eyes. "Waving plumes!" he cried. "And drawing nearer!
Come, Jacqueline! let us ride on!"

"How?" she answered, in a lifeless tone. "The bridge will not hold."

For answer he turned his horse to it; proceeded slowly across. It
wavered and bent; her wide-opened eyes followed him; once she lifted
her hand to her breast, and then became conscious he stood on the
opposite bank, calling her to follow. She started; a strange smile was
on her lips, and touching her horse sharply, she obeyed.

"Is it to death he has called me?" she asked herself.

In her ears sounded the swash and eddying of the current; she closed
her eyes to keep from falling, when she felt a hand on the bridle, and
in a moment had reached the opposite shore. The jester made no motion
to remount, but remained at her