t, mademoiselle," he said slyly, "is a secret between De Lorges and
myself."

Mademoiselle coloured very prettily, and half turning from her
tormentor, said:

"I shall never speak to you again, monsieur--never."

"Mademoiselle, if you keep that vow I shall die in a week; but see, I
will make amends. Why not slip on a hood and go to the masque? De
Lorges will be proud to escort you."

She looked around her, half delighted, half frightened at the thought,
and then, with a nervous laugh:

"I dare not risk it."

"Why not? Not a soul will know; and if there is any trouble say that
Le Brusquet played an evil turn on you, and told you you were summoned
by the Queen. I will not deny it; and it will still Madame de Montal's
tongue. Come, De Lorges, persuade her."

"It would be a rare jest, mademoiselle!" And, trembling with
eagerness, De Lorges made a step forward.

She stood wavering. There was another word of encouragement from Le
Brusquet, and she took the plunge.

"A moment," she said, and vanished into the inner room.

"_Eh bien_, monsieur," and Le Brusquet turned towards De Lorges, "you
have a great trust to-night; guard it carefully."

"Monsieur," replied the boy, "with my life," and he touched the hilt of
his little sword. He was a gallant lad this son of Montgomery de
Lorges.

Le Brusquet bowed to hide the twinkle in his eyes; and now Mademoiselle
Davila reappeared, disguised in a red hood and mask.

"No one will guess." And Le Brusquet surveyed her with a critical air,
whilst De Lorges, who longed to be off, burst out: "Come, mademoiselle!
I shall steal a mask and hood from somewhere later on."

But a new obstacle had arisen. "I forgot," she said, "the guard at the
door."

"Reassure yourself, mademoiselle. It is a friend--Orrain."

"The hero!" And she clapped her hands. "Come, De Lorges." And, with
a little nod to Le Brusquet, she ran to the door, followed by the page.
As the two came forth she stopped.

"Monsieur d'Orrain, you will not betray us?"

"Not I, mademoiselle."

"Then as a reward I tell you there is someone you would like to see
reading Marot's verses in the Queen's cabinet."

Without waiting for an answer, she tripped off down the gallery, De
Lorges by her side. There was a flash of the red hood, and the two
were gone.

"_Enfin_!" And Le Brusquet sat himself down on the coffer. "We are
rid of that chattering feather-brain; but, before everything, tell me
when yo