after a long time--

"Monsieur de Repentigny, what would you do were you Helene's brother?"

Germain's sword in an instant slid half-drawn from its sheath, and he
gasped, "I would find him."

She drew her slender figure up in the dusk and looked at him with an
approving glance as if to say, "_You_ are of other fibre than the
baseborn."

"Oh, sweet Cyrene!" he exclaimed, then checked himself, appalled at his
presumption, and added, "Alas, what am I saying? Heaven knows I am mad."

"Hush, hush!" she shuddered, glancing back over her shoulder.

Germain turned and caught sight of a shadow advancing. It proved to be
the Abbe.

"Excuse the messenger of Madame," said he. "She asks you, Baroness, to
take a hand at piquet."

She courtesied graciously to Germain and moved away, followed by the
Princess's black parasite. When she passed through the immense glass
door which looked from the card-room upon the terrace, and his eyes
could no longer follow her loveliness, Lecour turned towards the lake
and exclaimed in a low voice--

"There must be some way to win the paradise on earth and this seraph.
Castle of ages past, frown not too hardly upon me. You represent what I
love--the grand, the brave, the historic, the fair."

* * * * *

As he paced his chamber after the household had retired, the
recollection of the day became an elixir, exciting and delicious.

The room was in one of the four towers of the chateau. Sitting down, he
looked out through an open window upon the peace of the night-world.
There were the gardens, quiet, lovely and ghostly, the weird water, the
stately grove beyond it. He sat by the window more than two hours, while
the events just over crowded through his brain.

After a time the moonlight lit an unhappy countenance; next it grew
fixed and studious. He paced the room, he threw himself back into his
chair, rose once more, drew long breaths of cool air at the windows, and
knelt at the _prie-Dieu_ in the inmost corner. A violent tempest had
arisen within. The sails and yards of the soul-ship were strained, and
it was fleeing without a rudder.

At last he undressed quickly and got into bed. He could not sleep, but
tossed from side to side. Finally he sprang up and sat on the side of
the couch lost in swift, fevered thought.

"For her," he whispered in intensest passion--"yes, for her." Then he
hesitated. Suddenly, with fierce decision, he added, "The leap is
take