his feelings, "I hope soon to give you
such proofs of my affection that you will never doubt it again."

"And what makes you fancy that, my lord?"

"I would tell you, if you would listen seriously."

"I am listening."

"Well, it is a dream I had last night that gives me such confidence in
the future."

"A dream! You surely ought to explain that."

"I dreamed that there was a grand fete in the town: an immense crowd
filled the streets like an overflowing torrent, and the heavens were
ringing with their shouts of joy; the gloomy granite facades were hidden
by hangings of silk and festoons of flowers; the churches were decorated
as though for some grand ceremony. I was riding side by side with you."
Joan made a haughty movement: "Forgive me, madam, it was only a dream: I
was on your right, riding a fine white horse, magnificently caparisoned,
and the chief-justice of the kingdom carried before me a flag
unfolded in sign of honour. After riding in triumph through the main
thoroughfares of the city, we arrived, to the sound of trumpets and
clarions, at the royal church of Saint Clara, where your grandfather
and my uncle are buried, and there, before the high altar, the pope's
ambassador laid your hand in mine and pronounced a long discourse, and
then on our two heads in turn placed the crown of Jerusalem and Sicily;
after which the nobles and the people shouted in one voice, 'Long live
the King and Queen of Naples!' And I, wishing to perpetuate the memory
of so glorious a day, proceeded to create knights among the most zealous
in our court."

"And do you not remember the names of the chosen persons whom you judged
worthy of your royal favours?"

"Assuredly, madam: Bertrand, Count of Artois."

"Enough, my lord; I excuse you from naming the rest: I always supposed
you were loyal and generous, but you give me fresh proof of it by
showing favour to men whom I most honour and trust. I cannot tell if
your wishes are likely soon to be realised, but in any case feel sure of
my perpetual gratitude."

Joan's voice did not betray the slightest emotion; her look had became
kind, and the sweetest smile was on her lips. But in her heart
Andre's death was from that moment decided upon. The prince, too much
preoccupied with his own projects of vengeance, and too confident in his
all-powerful talisman and his personal valour, had no suspicion that his
plans could be anticipated. He conversed a long time with his wife in a
chatt