inquired the queen.

"I don't know."

"Who sent her?"

"M. Colbert."

"Her name?"

"She did not mention it."

"Her position in life?"

"She will answer that herself."

"Her face?"

"She is masked."

"Go, Molina; go and see!" cried the queen.

"It is needless," suddenly replied a voice, at once firm and gentle in
its tone, which proceeded from the other side of the tapestry hangings;
a voice which made the attendants start and the queen tremble
excessively. At the same moment a masked female appeared through the
hangings, and, before the queen could speak a syllable, she added, "I am
connected with the order of the Beguines of Bruges, and do, indeed,
bring with me the remedy which is certain to effect a cure of your
majesty's complaint." No one uttered a sound, and the Beguine did not
move a step.

"Speak," said the queen.

"I will, when we are alone," was the answer.

Anne of Austria looked at her attendants, who immediately withdrew. The
Beguine, thereupon, advanced a few steps toward the queen, and bowed
reverently before her. The queen gazed with increasing mistrust at this
woman, who, in her turn, fixed a pair of brilliant eyes upon her,
through her mask.

"The queen of France must, indeed, be very ill," said Anne of Austria,
"if it is known at the Beguinage of Bruges that she stands in need of
being cured."

"Your majesty is not irremediably ill."

"But, tell me, how do you happen to know I am suffering?"

"Your majesty has friends in Flanders."

"Since these friends, then, have sent you, mention their names."

"Impossible, madame, since your majesty's memory has not been awakened
by your heart."

Anne of Austria looked up, endeavoring to discover through the
concealment of the mask, and through her mysterious language, the name
of her companion, who expressed herself with such familiarity and
freedom; then, suddenly, wearied by a curiosity which wounded every
feeling of pride in her nature, she said, "You are ignorant, perhaps,
that royal personages are never spoken to with the face masked."

"Deign to excuse me, madame," replied the Beguine, humbly.

"I cannot excuse you. I may possibly forgive you, if you throw your mask
aside."

"I have made a vow, madame, to attend and aid all afflicted or suffering
persons, without ever permitting them to behold my face. I might have
been able to administer some relief to your body and to your mind, too;
but, since your majesty forbids me,