The window had, indeed, slowly opened, towards the conclusion of the
song, and Arthur observed some one,--Luciè, he doubted not,--standing
before it, partially concealed by the folds of a curtain.

"Sung like a troubadour!" exclaimed a voice, which he could not mistake;
"but, prithee, my tuneful knight, were those concluding lines extempore,
or had you really the vanity to anticipate the effect of your musical
incantation?"

"And who but yourself, Luciè, would doubt that charms like yours could
give inspiration to even the dullest muse?"

"Very fine, truly; but I will wager my life, Eustace, that mine are not
the only ears, which have been charmed with this melodious ditty,--that
I am not the first damsel who has reigned, the goddess of an hour, in
this same serenade! Confess the truth, my good friend, and I will give
thee absolution!"

"And to whom but you, my sweet Luciè, could I address such language?
you, who have so long reigned sole mistress of every thought and hope
of my heart!"

"Sole mistress in the wilderness, no doubt!" said the laughing girl;
"where there is no other to be found, except a tawny damsel or two, who
would scarcely understand your poetic flights! but you have just
returned from a brighter clime, and the dark-eyed demoiselles of merry
France, perchance, might thank you for such a tribute to their charms!"

"And do you think so meanly of me, Luciè," asked De Valette,
reproachfully, "as to believe me capable of playing the flatterer,