to a sense of his proper duty, set out in quest of me, not a little
disturbed in mind - for with all his shortcomings the rascal loved
me very faithfully.

That was on the third day of my sojourn at Lavedan. On the morrow
I rose, my foot being sufficiently recovered to permit it. I felt
a little weak from loss of blood, but Anatole - who, for all his
evil countenance, was a kindly and gentle - servant was confident
that a few days - a week at most - would see me completely restored.

Of leaving Lavedan I said nothing. But the Vicomte, who was one
of the most generous and noble hearted men that it has ever been my
good fortune to meet, forestalled any mention of my departure by
urging that I should remain at the chateau until my recovery were
completed, and, for that matter, as long thereafter as should suit
my inclinations.

"At Lavedan you will be safe, my friend," he assured me; "for, as I
have told you, we are under no suspicion. Let me urge you to remain
until the King shall have desisted from further persecuting us."

And when I protested and spoke of trespassing, he waived the point
with a brusqueness that amounted almost to anger.

"Believe, monsieur, that I am pleased and honoured at serving one
who has so stoutly served the Cause and sacrificed so much to it."

At that, being not altogether dead to shame, I winced, and told
myself that my behaviour was unworthy, and that I was practising a
detestable deception. Yet some indulgence I may justly claim in