like--began to sway before him; and then in a moment, as it seemed to
him, she was gone, and he was seated at a table, his trembling fingers
grasping a cup of wine which the elderly servant who had admitted him was
holding to his lips. On the table before him were a spit of partridges
and a cake of white bread. When he had swallowed a second mouthful of
wine--which cleared his eyes as by magic--the man urged him to eat. And
he fell to with an appetite that grew as he ate.

By-and-by, feeling himself again, he became aware that two of Madame's
women were peering at him through the open doorway. He looked that way
and they fled giggling into the court; but in a moment they were back
again, and the sound of their tittering drew his eyes anew to the door.
It was the custom of the day for ladies of rank to wait on their
favourites at table; and he wondered if Madame were with them, and why
she did not come and serve him herself.

But for a while longer the savour of the roasted game took up the major
part of his thoughts; and when prudence warned him to desist, and he sat
back, satisfied after his long fast, he was in no mood to be critical.
Perhaps--for somewhere in the house he heard a lute--Madame was
entertaining those whom she could not leave? Or deluding some who might
betray him if they discovered him?

From that his mind turned back to the streets and the horrors through
which he had passed; but for a moment and no more. A shudder, an emotion
of prayerful pity, and he recalled his thoughts. In the quiet of the
cool room, looking on the sunny, vine-clad court, with the tinkle of the
lute and the murmurous sound of women's voices in his ears, it was hard
to believe that the things from which he had emerged were real. It was
still more unpleasant, and as futile, to dwell on them. A day of