tier than I," said Mistress Catherine; "but they tell me
that, for all that (and it is saying much), your father made you a good
daughter of the Religion!"

"He was indeed all of good and brave and in instruction wise--I fear me
I have profited but little!"

"Ah," said the Princess, "that is as I would expect your father's
daughter to speak. For the present, I cannot offer you much. I have a
great and serious work to do. But one day you shall be my
maid-of-honour!"

It is the way of princesses, even of the wisest. But the daughter of
Francis the Scot was free-born. She only smiled a little, and answered,
with her father's quiet dignity of manner, "Then or now, I will do
anything for the daughter of Queen Jeanne!"

"By-and-by, perhaps, you will be willing to do a little for myself,"
said the Princess gently, putting out her arms and taking Claire's head
upon her shoulder. "We shall love one another well, little one."

The "little one" was at least four inches taller than the speaker, but
something must be forgiven to a princess.

Meantime, Madame Granier had arranged all Mistress Catherine's simple
linen and travelling necessities--the linen strong, white, and
country-spun, smelling of far-off Navarre, bleached on the meadows by
the brooks that prattle down from the snows. The brushes and combs were
of plain material--no gold or silver about them anywhere. Only in a
little shagreen case rested a silver spoon, a knife, and a two-pronged
fork, with a gilt crown upon each. Otherwise the camp-equipment of a
simple soldier of the Bearnais could not have been commoner.

When the hostess had betaken her downstairs, Mistress Catherine drew her
new friend down on a low settle, and holding her hand, began to open out
her heart gladly, as if she had long wished for a confidante.

"I have come to seek my brother," she said; "I expected him here in this
house. There is a plot to take his life. Guise and D'Epernon both hate
him. And, indeed, both have cause. He is too brave for one--too subtle
for the other. You heard how, at the beginning of this war, he sent
messengers to the Duke of Guise saying, 'I am first prince of the
blood--you also claim the throne. Now, to prevent the spilling of much
brave blood, let us two fight it out to the death!' But Guise merely
answered that he had no quarrel with his cousin of Navarre, having only
taken up arms to defend from heresy the Catholic faith--what a coward!"

"It seems to me," sa