s sojourn at Devil's Cliff. To my great surprise he refused with a
manner so painfully humiliated that I pitied him. Knowing how poor he
was, and wishing, for the very reason that he showed some delicacy, to
oblige him to accept a present, I came here to seek a medallion
surrounded by diamonds on which was my monogram, hoping that the
chevalier would not refuse that. I returned carrying this token, when in
approaching the inclosure where I had left him, at the end of the park,
near the fountain--Ah! my love, I tremble still!" And the young woman
threw her two arms around James' neck, as if she would protect him
against this past danger.

"Angela, I beg of you, calm yourself," said Monmouth tenderly. "Finish
your story."

"Ah, well," she continued, "when I approached the fountain I heard
voices; frightened, I listened."

"It was this emissary, I presume?"

"Yes, my beloved."

"But how had he effected an entrance? How did he leave? How did he
confide his designs to the Gascon?"

"He mistook the chevalier for you!"

"He mistook the chevalier for me?" cried Monmouth.

"Yes, James. Doubtless he was deceived by the resemblance in figure, and
by the suit that the Gascon wore, and which you had had made, in order
to satisfy one of my caprices in dressing yourself like the portrait of
which you have told me."

"Oh," said Monmouth, passing his hand across his forehead, "Oh! you do
not realize the terrible memories that all this awakens in me."

Then, after having heaved a deep sigh and looking sadly at the ebony
frame encrusted with silver containing the drawing of a portrait, the
duke resumed: "But what was the result of this strange encounter? What
did the chevalier say? What did _you_ do? Truly, if your presence and
your words did not assure me, I should go myself----"

Angela interrupted the duke. "Again, my beloved James, should I be so
calm if there was anything to fear at this hour?"

"Very well. I hear you, but you can understand my impatience."

"You shall not be in doubt long. From the few words I overheard I
divined that the chevalier, leaving our enemy in error, did not know how
to get him out of the place, fearing he would not be obeyed by our
servants. Counting, with reason, on the Gascon's intelligence, I
presented myself to him at the moment when he approached the house,
taking care to warn him, indirectly, that he must take me for Mirette.
Having seen that the emissary of King William, believing h