y own
people, who loved me! I was but twelve years old, but even then the
wretch would pay me a half-mocking courtesy, as one destined to him; and
the more I disdained him and said I belonged to you, the more both he
and my aunt, the Abbess, smiled, as though they had their bird in a
cage; but they left me in peace till my uncle brought me to court, and
then all began again: and when they said you gave me up, I had no hope,
not even of a convent. But ah, it is all over now, and I am so happy!
You are grown so gentle and so beautiful, Berenger, and so much taller
than I ever figured you to myself, and you look as if you could take me
up in your arms, and let no harm happen to me.'

'Never, never shall it!' said Berenger, felling all manhood, strength,
and love stir within him, and growing many years in heart in that happy
moment. 'My sweet little faithful wife, never fear again now you are
mine.'

Alas! poor children. They were a good way from the security they had
begun to fancy for themselves. Early the next morning, Berenger went
in his straightforward way to the King, thanked him, and requested his
sanction for at once producing themselves to the court as Monsieur le
Baron and Madame la Baronne de Ribaumont.

At this Charles swore a great oath, as one in perplexity, and bade him
not go so fast.

'See here,' said he, with the rude expletives only too habitual with
him; 'she is a pretty little girl, and she and her lands are much better
with an honest man like you than with that _pendard_ of a cousin; but
you see he is bent on having her, and he belongs to a cut-throat crew
that halt at nothing. I would not answer for your life, if you tempted
him so strongly to rid himself of you.'

'My own sword, Sire, can guard my life.'

'Plague upon your sword! What does the foolish youth think it would
do against half-a-dozen poniards and pistols in a lane black as hell's
mouth?'

The foolish young WAS thinking how could a king so full of fiery words
and strange oaths bear to make such an avowal respecting his own
capital and his own courtiers. All he could do was to bow and reply,
'Nevertheless, Sire, at whatever risk, I cannot relinquish my wife; I
would take her at one to the Ambassador's.'

'How, sir!' interrupted Charles, haughtily and angrily, 'if you
forget that you are a French nobleman still, I should remember it! The
Ambassador may protect his own countrymen-none else.'

'I entreat your Majesty's pardon,' sa