entleman, and hoped that he would be allowed to visit her
whenever he wished. Also she gave her name and address.

"Oh! yes, Mademoiselle Ogilvee, the rich English lady who live in the
fine house. I have heard of her. _Mais voyons!_ Mademoiselle is not
Catholic, is she, for I promise to protect this lad from that red wolf?"

"No, Monsieur, fear nothing. Whatever I am, I am not Catholic,"
(though, perhaps, if you knew all, you would think me something much
more dangerous, she added to herself.)

Then they said goodbye.

"I say, Miss Ogilvy," exclaimed Godfrey, blushing, "you've been awfully
kind to me. If it hadn't been for you I should have missed that train
and never heard the last of it. Also, I should have had to go hungry
from London here, since I promised my father not to buy anything on the
journey, and you know I forgot the basket." (By the way, being
addressed, it arrived three days afterwards, a mass of corruption, with
six francs to pay on it, and many papers to be signed.)

"Not at all, Godfrey, it was delightful to have you as a companion--and
a friend," she added meaningly. "You will come and see me, won't you?"

"Yes, of course, if I can. But meanwhile, please wait a minute," and he
pulled out his purse.

"What on earth are you going to do, Godfrey? I don't want your card."

"Card! I haven't got a card. I am going to make you a present."

"Make me a present?" gasped Miss Ogilvy, a vague vision of half-crowns
flashing before her mind.

"Yes, it is rather a curious thing. It was found round the neck-bone of
an old knight, whose remains they threw out of the Abbey Church when
they put in the heating apparatus. I saw it there, and the sexton gave
it to me when he discovered that it was only stone. You will see it has
a hole in it, so he must have worn it as an ornament. The grave he lay
in was that of a Crusader, for the legs are crossed upon his brass,
although his name has gone. Oh! here it is," and he produced an oblong
piece of black graphite or some such stone, covered with mystical
engravings.

She seized the object, and examined it eagerly.

"Why, it is a talisman," she said, "Gnostic, I should think, for there
is the cock upon it, and a lot that I can't read, probably a magic
formula. No doubt the old Crusader got it in the East, perhaps as a
gift from some Saracen in whose family it had descended. Oh! my dear
boy, I do thank you. You could not have made me a present that I should
value m