tz was a young
and not an old man, though ordinarily his vitality had been worn to
the quick, and both in appearance and movement he was already
prematurely aged.

"What is your name?"

The question came with military directness from the lips of the
marshal of France.

"Laurence MacKim," said the lad, with equal directness.

"For what purpose did you come to the Castle of Machecoul?"

"I came," said Laurence, coolly, "to take service with you, my lord.
And because I was tired of monk rule, and getting only the husks of
life, tired too of sitting dumb and watching others eat the kernel."

"Ha!" cried Gilles de Retz, "I am with you there. There is, after all,
some harmony between our immortal parts. For my part, I would have all
of life,--husk, kernel, stalk,--aye, and the root that grows amid the
dung."

He paused a moment, looking at Laurence with the air of a connoisseur.

"Come hither, lad," he said, with a soft and friendly accent; "sit on
this seat with your back to the window. Turn your head so that the
lamp shines aright upon your face. You are not so handsome as was
reported, but that there is something wondrously taking about your
countenance, I do admit. There--sit so, and fear nothing."

Laurence sat down with the bad grace of a manly youth who is admired
for what he privately despises, and wishes himself well quit of. But,
notwithstanding this, there was something so insinuating and pleasant
about the marshal's manner that the lad almost thought he must have
dreamed the incident of the burned door and the sacrifice upon the
iron altar.

"You came hither to search for Margaret of Douglas," said the marshal,
suddenly bending forward as if to take him by surprise.

Laurence, wholly taken aback, answered neither yea nor nay, but held
his peace.

Then Gilles de Retz nodded sagely, with a quiet satisfaction in his
own prevision, which to one less bold and reckless than the young
clerk of Dulce Cor would have proved disconcerting. Then he propounded
his next question:

"How many came hither with you?"

"One," said Laurence, promptly; "I came here alone with your servant
De Sille."

The marshal smiled.

"Good--we will try some other method with you," he said; "but be
advised and speak. None hath ever hidden aught from Gilles de Retz."

"Then, my lord," said Laurence, "there is the less reason for you to
put me to the question."

"I can expound dark speeches," said the marshal, "and I also kno