hat is going on twelve or fifteen miles away."

"It is beautiful here!" she said.

Truly it was. The road, smooth and white, ran along the slopes of hills,
crested with open forest, yet fresh and green. Below them were fields of
chequered brown and green. Four or five clear brooks flowed down the
slopes, and the sheen of a little river showed in the distance. Three
small villages were in sight, and, clean white smoke rising from their
chimneys, blended harmoniously into the blue of the skies. It reminded
John of pictures by the great French landscape painters. It was all so
beautiful and peaceful, nor was the impression marred by the distant
mutter of the guns which he had forgotten again.

Julie and Suzanne, her menacing shadow, dismounted from the wagon
presently and walked with John and Picard. Lieutenant Legare was stirred
enough from his customary phlegm to offer some gallant words, but war,
the great leveler, had not quite leveled all barriers, so far as he was
concerned, and, after her polite reply, he returned to his martial
duties. John had become the friend of the Lannes family through his
association with Philip in dangerous service, and his position was
recognized.

The road ascended and the forest became deeper. No houses were now in
sight. As the morning advanced it had grown warmer under a brilliant
sun, but it was pleasant here in the shade. Julie still walked, showing
no sign of a wish for the cart again. John noticed that she was very
strong, or at least very enduring. Suddenly he felt a great obligation
to take care of her for the sake of Lannes. The sister of his
comrade-in-arms was a precious trust in his hands, and he must not
fail.

The wind shifted and blew toward the east, no longer bringing the sound
of guns. Instead they heard a bird now and then, chattering or singing
in a tree. The illusion of the Middle Ages returned to John. They were a
peaceful troupe, going upon a peaceful errand.

"Don't tell me there isn't a castle at Menouville," he said. "I know
there is, although I've never been there, and I never heard of the place
before. When we arrive the drawbridge will be down and the portcullis
up. All the men-at-arms will have burnished their armor brightly and
will wait respectfully in parallel rows to welcome us as we pass
between. His Grace, the Duke of Light Heart, in a suit of red velvet
will be standing on the steps, and Her Graciousness, the Duchess, in a
red brocade dress, wit