are dead. When I think that for greater
safety I have concealed my real name from my devoted and adored wife,
who then can have betrayed me? Father Griffen is incapable of such
sacrilege; for it is under the seal of the confessional that the
governor made the revelation to him."

After some minutes of silent thought the duke said, "And what means did
the chevalier employ to discover the designs of the emissary of William
of Orange?"

"His designs, my love, were not concealed; I heard them; he wished to
carry you away, dead or alive, to the Tower of London."

"Without doubt. Since the Revolution of 1688 they fear that I may become
reconciled to the dethroned king; the public prints even announce that
my old partisans are moving," said Monmouth, speaking to himself. "I
recognize there the policy of my old friend William of Orange. But by
what right does he suspect me capable of ambitious designs? Again, who
has aroused in William these unjust suspicions, these ill-founded
fears?"

After another silence he said to Angela, "God be praised, my child, the
storm is past; thanks to thee; thanks to this brave adventurer!
Nevertheless I am not sure if, in spite of the devotion which he has
shown on this occasion, I can confide to him a part of the truth;
perhaps it would be wiser to have him in ignorance and to persuade him
that the emissary had been misled by false information. What do you
think, Angela? Dare I appear to the chevalier under any other form than
that of Youmaeale, or shall I charge you to-night to see and thank this
brave man? As to recompense, we will find a way to do that without
wounding his delicacy."

Angela looked at her husband with growing astonishment. Monmouth had not
understood her; he thought that the Gascon had succeeded in removing
this emissary of William of Orange from Devil's Cliff; he did not know
he had accompanied him as a prisoner.

"I do not know when the chevalier will return. He will doubtless make
this mistake last as long as possible in order to give us time to
escape."

"The chevalier is no longer here, then?" cried the duke.

"No, he has gone as a prisoner, under your name, with this man. Our
negro fishermen accompany them to the Cayman's Creek, where the emissary
will embark for the Barbadoes in one of our boats with the chevalier."

The duke could hardly believe what he heard. "Gone under my name!" cried
he. "But this emissary, discovering his mistake, will be capable of
k