Tell Madame Marie," urged the dwarf insolently.

"And do you ride that way over bush and brier, through mirk and
daylight?"

"I was at Penobscot this week," answered Le Rossignol.

Zelie gazed with a bristling of even the hairs upon her lip.

"It goeth past belief," she observed, setting her hands upon her sides.
"And the swan, what else can he do besides carry thee like a dragon?"

"He sings to me," boldly asserted Le Rossignol. "And many a good bit of
advice have I taken from his bill."

"It would be well if he turned his mind more to thinking and less to
roving," respectfully hinted Zelie. "I will go before you downstairs and
leave the key in the turret door," she suggested.

"Take up these things and go when you please, and mind that I do not
hear my clavier striking the wall."

"Have you not felt the wind in this open donjon?"

"The wind and I take no note of each other," answered the dwarf, lifting
her chilled nose skyward. "But the cold water and bread have worked me
most discomfort in this imprisonment. Go down and tell the cook for me
that he is to make a hot bowl of the broth I like."

"He will do it," said Zelie.

"Yes, he will do it," said the dwarf, "and the sooner he does it the
better."

"Will you eat it in the hall?"

"I will eat it wherever Madame Marie is."

"But that you cannot do. There is great business going forward and she
is shut with Madame Bronck in our other lady's room."

"I like it when you presume to know better than I do what is going
forward in this fort!" exclaimed the dwarf jealously, a flush mounting
her slender cheeks.

"I should best know what has happened since you left the hall,"
contended Zelie.

"Do you think so, poor heavy-foot? You can only hearken to what is
whispered past your ear; but I can sit here on the battlements and read
all the secrets below me."

"Can you, Mademoiselle Nightingale? For instance, where is Madame
Bronck's box?"

The maid drew a deep breath at her own daring.

"It is not about Madame Bronck's box that they confer. It is about the
marriage of the Hollandaise," answered Le Rossignol with a bold guess.
"I could have told you that when you entered the turret."

Zelie experienced a chill through her flesh which was not caused by the
damp breath of Fundy Bay.

"How doth she find out things done behind her back--this clever little
witch? And perhaps you will name the bridegroom, mademoiselle?"

"Who could that be except the big Ho