drew you for safety out of the crowd, and placed you under his own
protection in this chapel. Therefore, everything is arranged to
deceive him."

At these words the tears of the poor woman stopped, but an expression
of sadness settled down on her face.

"No one can deceive him," she said. "To-night he will know all. Save
me from his blows! Go to Plessis, see the king, tell him--" she
hesitated; then, some dreadful recollection giving her courage to
confess the secrets of her marriage, she added: "Yes, tell him that to
master me the count bleeds me in both arms--to exhaust me. Tell him
that my husband drags me about by the hair of my head. Say that I am a
prisoner; that--"

Her heart swelled, sobs choked her throat, tears fell from her eyes.
In her agitation she allowed the young man, who was muttering broken
words, to kiss her hands.

"Poor darling! no one can speak to the king. Though my uncle is
grand-master of his archers, I could not gain admission to Plessis. My
dear lady! my beautiful sovereign! oh, how she has suffered! Marie,
let yourself say but two words, or we are lost!"

"What will become of us?" she murmured. Then, seeing on the dark wall
a picture of the Virgin, on which the light from the lamp was falling,
she cried out:--

"Holy Mother of God, give us counsel!"