ctest seclusion ever since the late King's death. She receives no
one, and yet for miles around she is blessed for her charity. 'Tis
said, however," and he dropped his voice, "that she is a Christaudin;
but of this I know nothing."

And so this sad, dark-robed spectre was the once brilliant and
beautiful De Helly! I went back in my mind to the gay days when she
reigned as queen. It was not so long ago, and I could recall all that
throng of syrens. There was Canaples, star of the morning; the lovely
St. Pol, star of the evening; Rieux, Tallard, Lestrange; but one only
of that galaxy was left, the loveliest and the worst--Diane, whom men
called the crescent moon. For her I wondered what fate was in store.

The next day, towards sunset, mademoiselle and I were once again upon
the balcony of the inn, when I saw a horseman trotting past the parvis
of St. Martin. I was sure it was Capus, and my doubts were soon at
rest, for as he rounded the corner and came up the Rue St. Jacques I
saw it was he, and signalled to him. He lifted his arm in the air in
answer to my signal, and spurring his beast drew up a minute or so
after at the door of the inn.

"What news, Capus?" I called out; and he waved a letter that he held in
his hand. Making an excuse to mademoiselle I ran down to meet him, and
soon had Le Brusquet's letter in my hands. He had done as I asked, and
we were to be met at Longpont, near Montlhery; and in a postscript he
added that Olden Hoorn had sent him the two hundred crowns I had asked
for from Poitiers--a piece of news not without interest to me. When I
had finished Capus said:

"I came with the escort, monsieur, as far as Montlhery. It is
commanded by the Sieur de Lorgnac. There are ten lances and two court
ladies and a dozen or so of sumpter horses--a brave show. They all lie
at the priory at Longpont."

"Thanks, Capus. Go now and rest." And as the man went I stood for a
little looking after him, and then went back to the balcony, the letter
in my hand. As I came up mademoiselle called out to me:

"See!" she cried, "there is the new moon; turn over the money in your
pocket, and wish."

I laughed. "There is little enough to turn, mademoiselle; but for my
wish--it is all good fortune and happiness to you."

"Now you will bring me ill-luck for having spoken your wish aloud. Oh,
monsieur!"

"Heaven forbid! But have you wished, may I ask?" She turned away with
a little sigh, and looked ou