sky. She was so
slim, sorrowful, small, childlike, forlorn,--I would have died to serve
her.

She looked at me searchingly, as the maid had done, but with more
courtesy, and then, in a low voice bidding me follow her, led the way
down the walk and into a side path that wound among some tall
rose-bushes. Here we could not be seen from the walk and yet we might
hear anybody approaching. She stopped and faced me.

"You have news of Monsieur de Merri," she said eagerly. "What of him?"

"He is prevented from coming to you, Madame."

Her face, pale before, turned white as a sheet.

"But," I hastened to add, "I have come in his stead, and I will serve
you as willingly as he."

"But that will not do," she said, in great agitation. "Nobody can serve
me at this pass _but_ Monsieur de Merri. Where is he? What prevents
him?"

"I left him at La Fleche," said I lamely. "I assure you it is utterly
impossible for him to come. But believe me, I am wholly yours for
whatever service you desired of him. You can see that I have come from
him." I took from my pocket her note, and held it out. I then told her
my name and parentage, and begged her not to distrust me because I was
of another religion than hers.

"It isn't that I don't believe you, Monsieur," she replied. "It isn't
that I doubt your willingness to help me."

"As to my ability, try me, Madame. My zeal will inspire me."

"I don't doubt your ability to do brave and difficult things, Monsieur.
But it is not that. It happens--the circumstances are such--alas, nobody
but Monsieur de Merri himself can help me! If you but knew! If _he_ but
knew!"

"Tell me the case, Madame. Trust me, I beg. Let me be the judge as to
whether I can help you."

"I do trust you. I am not afraid to tell you. You will see plainly
enough. It is this: I have been slandered to my husband. A week has been
given me in which to clear myself. The week ends to-morrow. If I have
not proved my innocence by that time, God knows what fate my husband
will inflict upon me!"

She shuddered and closed her eyes.

"But your innocence, Madame--who can doubt it?"

"My husband is a strange man, Monsieur. He has little faith in women."

"But what slander can he believe of you? And who could utter it? What is
its nature?"

"I suppose it is my husband's friend, Captain Ferragant, who uttered it.
The nature of it is, that Monsieur de Merri's name is associated with
mine. Monsieur de Merri is said to have made