he position in which she found herself was trying. She made him a grave
courtesy. My house might have been the chateau in which she was born, so
undisturbed was her manner. Her night wandering and mind-sickness were
simply put behind us in the past, with her having taken refuge in my
house, as matters which need not concern Abbe Edgeworth. He did not
concern himself with them, but bent before her as if he had no doubt of
her sanity.

I asked her to resume her place on the settle. There was a stool for the
abbe and one for myself. We could see the river glinting in its valley,
and the windrows of heights beyond it. A wild bee darted into the room,
droning, and out again, the sun upon its back.

"Monsieur," I said to Abbe Edgeworth, "I am ready now to hear the
message which you mentioned to me last night."

"If madame will pardon me," he answered, "I will ask you to take me
where we can confer alone."

"It is not necessary, monsieur. Madame de Ferrier knows my whole story."

But the priest moved his shoulders.

"I followed you in this remote place, monsieur, that we might talk
together without interruption, unembarrassed by any witness."

Madame de Ferrier rose. I put her into her seat again with authority.

"It is my wish, madame, to have at least one witness with Abbe Edgeworth
and myself."

"I hope," he protested, "that madame will believe there can be no
objection to her presence. I am simply following instructions. I was
instructed to deliver my message in private."

"Monsieur," Eagle answered, "I would gladly withdraw to another room."

"I forbid it, madame," I said to her.

"Very well," yielded Abbe Edgeworth.

He took a folded paper from his bosom, and spoke to me with startling
sharpness.

"You think I should address you as Monseigneur, as the dauphin of France
should be addressed?"

"I do not press my rights. If I did, monsieur the abbe, you would not
have the right to sit in my presence."

"Suppose we humor your fancy. I will address you as Monseigneur. Let us
even go a little farther and assume that you are known to be the dauphin
of France by witnesses who have never lost track of you. In that case,
Monseigneur, would you put your name to a paper resigning all claim upon
the throne?"

"Is this your message?"

"We have not yet come to the message."

"Let us first come to the dauphin. When dauphins are as plentiful as
blackberries in France and the court never sees a beggar appear withou