position, till the touch of a hand, laid lightly on his arm, recalled
him to recollection. Turning quickly round, he involuntarily started
back, on perceiving the object of his curiosity close beside him. His
gliding footsteps and peculiar appearance awakened a transient feeling
of dread; but instantly repressing it, he ventured to raise his head,
and as he did so, the clear light of the moon fell full on his youthful
face. The stranger was about to speak, but as the page looked towards
him, the words died away on his lips, his cheeks were flushed, and his
cold features glowed with sudden and strong excitement.

"Holy St. Mary, who are you?" he asked, in an accent of deep feeling, as
he grasped the arm of the trembling youth.

"I am called Hector, the page of Mad. la Tour," he answered, in a voice
scarce audible from terror, and shrinking from the hand which held him.

"May God forgive me!" murmured the monk to himself, as he relaxed his
grasp; while, evidently by a strong effort, every trace of emotion was
banished from his countenance and manner. Hector still stood before him,
longing, yet afraid to flee, till the other, apparently comprehending
his feelings, said, in a slow, solemn voice,

"Fear me not, boy, but go, bear this message to the lady of La Tour.
Tell her, that her lord hath already spread his homeward sails, and a
few hours, perhaps, will bear him hither. Tell her, that M. d'Aulney
will send to parley with her for surrender; but bid her disdain his
promises or threats; bid her hold out with a brave heart, and the hour
of succor will surely arrive."

So saying, he turned away; and Hector hastened to the apartment of his