"Gracious Pucelle," I said, in French, turning to the Maiden, "my life,
and the fortune of one who would gladly fight to the death by your side,
are in your hands. For the love of the blessed saints, your sisters, and
of Him who sends you on your holy mission, pray this demoiselle to let me
enter the house with you, and tell my tale to you and her. If I satisfy
you not of my honour and good intent, I am ready, in this hour, to go
before the men of law, and deliver myself up to their justice. For
though my life is in jeopardy, I dread death less than the anger of this
honourable demoiselle. And verily this is a matter of instant life or
death."

So saying, I clasped my hands in the manner of one in prayer, setting all
my soul into my speech, as a man desperate.

The Maiden had listened very gravely, and sweetly she smiled when my
prayer was ended.

"Verily," she said to me, "here is deeper water than I can fathom.
Elliot, ma mie, you hear how gently, and in what distress, this fair lass
beseeches us."

"Fair lass!" cried Elliot: and then broke off between a sob and a laugh,
her hand catching at her side.

"If you love me," said the Maid, looking on her astonished, and not
without anger--"if you love me, as you have said, you that are the first
of my comforters, and, till this day, my only friend in your strange
town, let the lass come in and tell us her tale. For, even if she be
distraught, and beside herself, as I well deem, I am sent to be a friend