ld like to swing from one of its branches. He added
that, as I was his step-brother, he would give me a high one, if I
chose.

I can almost see him now as I write this, with his cruel hatchet face
snarling over the parapet, his red hair, his tall, thin figure and bent
back--if the truth were known, Simon's affairs of gallantry must have
been few.

In brief, despite all my efforts, I was unable to see my father, who
died that night asking for me.

In the hamlet of Orrain itself I could find no shelter, although the
villagers knew and loved me, and this was from fear of the new Vidame.
I, however, found a temporary retreat in the forest, living there like
a wild beast for four days, waiting with a burning heart for a chance
of meeting Simon, but he never came forth.

On the fourth day my father was buried at dead of night in the Chapel
of St. Hugo of Orrain, where every Vidame of Orrain, save one, lies.

Pierrebon, now my steward, and at that time my servant, and the only
companion I had with me, brought me news from the village that this was
to be, and I determined to be there at all hazard. This resolution I
carried out, and Simon and I met beside our father's grave. The time
and the occasion sealed my lips and stayed my hand. Even Simon spake
never a word, but, when it was all over, rode off sullenly through the
night back to the Chateau, his cursed Italians around him, and with the
dawn started off for Paris.

This I did too. There was nothing else to be done, and I returned to
my College.

I was, however, no longer in the position of a poor cadet, without
means or resource. My mother's lands of St. Martin had come to me on
Anne's death. Even my great-uncle the good Bishop agreed with me, with
many sighs, that the profession of arms was more suited to my present
position than the Church, but advised me to stay for a year more in
College, and fortify my mind by taking the course of Philosophy.

I very willingly assented to this; but the wealthy Chevalier d'Orrain
as I was called--I did not take the name of St. Martin--was a vastly
different person from the poor cadet of the past year. I found myself
courted and sought after. I began to find pleasures in life unknown to
me before, and in the young man of fashion, who entered the world a
year later it was hardly possible to recognise the once quiet and
studious Bertrand d'Orrain.

I plunged into the dissipations of the capital. At the Court I found a