that the one chance of her safety lay
in her being under the Queen's protection.

"Mademoiselle!" I stammered; but she broke in on me.

"Yes! You will let me go, will you not? Monsieur, I hate the thought
of Paris and its dark intrigues; and the fate of those who belong to my
faith is ever with me, like a horrible dream. I dread, I fear, each
hour that brings me nearer to what I know will be my death. Monsieur,
as you are a gentleman, let me free. Take me to Chatillon, and leave
me there with the Cardinal. Odet de Coligny, prince of the Church
though he is, is of my faith. I shall be safe there--a thousand times
safer than a prisoner in Paris. Oh, say you will!"

I took her hand in mine, caressing it as that of a child, and strove to
explain, but she would not listen. "Say you will; do not refuse!" she
repeated; and, feeling like a hangman, I blurted out that it was
impossible. And then she snatched her hand from my grasp, and stood a
moment, her face half averted from me. There was an awkward silence,
and collecting myself I again pointed out the danger she was in, and
that in Paris alone could there be safety for her. I might have spoken
to stone walls; but at my words she turned, and there were angry lights
in the brown eyes, and her lips were tightly set.

"I shall not trespass further on your good nature, monsieur. I feel
you have cancelled the debt I owed you, and henceforth you will
understand that I look upon you as my gaoler and nothing more."

I bowed, and she continued: "And further, I do not desire to have
speech with you. I travel as your prisoner; and"--with a truly
feminine outburst--"I shall escape--there are friends who will see to
that."

I was so full of wrath at the manner in which I had been treated that I
was about to answer back hotly that, friend or no friend, she would
ride into Paris by my side; but I restrained myself with an effort, and
with another look of anger at me mademoiselle turned, and began to
ascend the stairway. I watched her as she went up, with head erect and
shining eyes, and stood where I was for some little time utterly
dejected and cast down. Even if I had a shadow of a chance it was gone
by this. I felt like one who was condemned to execute himself. After
a little I moved towards the supper-table, and sitting down there
stared aimlessly before me. My eyes fell on the little heap of plucked
rose leaves that had been left on the table, and I began, at