of a prince! Curse this bed!" with sullen fury.

"Perhaps, Monsieur, the bed is of your own making."

"Ah! So we also indulge in irony? If this bed is of my own making, my
mind was occupied with softer things. Would you not like the love of
women, endless gold, priceless wines, and all that the world gives to
the worldly? Come; what secret envy is yours, you who sleep on straw,
in clammy cells, and dine on crusts?"

Brother Jacques went back to his window. He was pale. How deftly had
the marquis placed his finger on the raw! Envy? All his life he had
envied the rich and the worldly; all his life he had struggled between
his cravings and his honesty. Had he not shaved his crown that his
head might have a pallet to sleep on and his hunger a crust? His nails
indented his palms, but he felt no pain. He was grateful for the cool
of the morning air. Down below he saw the Vicomte d'Halluys tramping
about in company with some soldiers. The Jesuit stared at that
picturesque face. Where had he seen it prior to that night at the
Corne d'Abondance?

Up and down the winding path settlers, soldiers, merchants, trappers
and Indians straggled, with an occasional seigneur lending to the scene
the pomp of a vanished Court. Far away the priest could see a hawk,
circling and circling in the summer sky. Now and then a dove flashed
by, and a golden bumblebee blundered into the chamber.

"I will fetch Sister Benie," Brother Jacques said at length. He
dreaded to remain with this fierce-eyed old man from whom nothing
seemed hidden, not even secret thought. "She is an excellent nurse."

"She will please me better than Monsieur le Comte."

The title stirred Brother Jacques strangely.

"But give her to understand," added the marquis, "that I want no
canting Loyola. Who is this Sister Benie?"

"She is of the Ursulines."

"No, no; I mean, what does she look like and of what family."

"I have never studied her visual beauty," coldly. Brother Jacques was
anxious to be gone.

"I have known priests who were otherwise inclined. I suppose you can
see her soul. That is interesting."

"I will go at once in quest of her;" and Brother Jacques went forth.

The marquis turned a cheek to his pillow. "Jehan!"

"Yes, Monsieur," answered the old lackey from his corner.

"I do not like that young priest. He is all eyes; and he makes me
cold."

Brother Jacques meanwhile found Sister Benie in one of the Indian
schoolrooms