eeks glowed with the rosy
bloom of a healthy and innocent womanhood. They were talking in low
tones of the troubles of the time and of their absent friends; their
language was in the island French.

"It is more than a month," said Rose Lempriere, "since I had tidings of
M. de Maufant. Methinks your fiance M. le Gallais might show more
alacrity in his coming."

"Helas!" replied Marguerite, "poor Alain will never err on the side of
precipitancy. But seest thou not, my sister, the equinox here, and gales
are abroad. I did not expect him till the S. Michel; and then there are
Captain Bowden and M. the Lieutenant's cruisers to reckon with."

"You do not appear to mind making the crane's foot, my sister," said
Rose, with a slight smile. "In my youth lovers were expected to be
forward and maidens looked for attention."

"It is not so long since your youth, my all fair."

"But perhaps M. le Gallais is better occupied in another part."

"_Voyons, ma soeur_; it is quite equal, to me. Your M. le Gallais
indeed! one would think it was you and M. de Maufant that wanted to
marry him. As for me, I do not want to marry at all. Least of all does
it import me to marry a man chosen by others. I prefer the ways of
England."

"_Di va_!" exclaimed her sister. "A good man is not bad because our
friends like him. Marry this good Alain, and love him after."

The damsel replied by a pretty grimace.

"Marguerite!" said Mme. de Maufant, with a little frown, "_on ne badine
pas avec l'amour_. Or do you love another perhaps? Ah! _malheureuse_;
art thou still thinking of _ce beau guilliard_, how did they call him?
M. Elliot, I think, the King's page? I hear that he is returned with the
King; and--oh, Marguerite!----"

"I swear to you Rose, I know nothing of M. Elliot--"

As she spoke a low whistle was heard without.

"It is Alain's signal," cried Rose, all in a flutter. "He brings me news
from Michael."

So saying Mme. de Maufant moved with a quick step towards the door
opening on the back yard, whence the signal-whistle evidently came.
Marguerite site still on her _tabouret_, her head hidden in her shapely
white hands.

On reaching the back-door Rose threw a wimple over her head, and
carefully undoing the-chain and bar, admitted le Gallais, weary and
travel-stained. Taking both her hands the young man gazed in her face
with the honest gaze of a loving brother. Then searching in the lining
of his doublet he drew out a letter, or rath