"And Melite?" asked Adhelmar, after a little.

Again Reinault shrugged. "In the White Turret," he said; then, with a
short laugh: "Oy Dieus, yes! The girl has been caterwauling for this
shabby rogue all day. She would have me--me, the King's man, look
you!--save Hugues at the peril of my seignory! And I protest to you, by
the most high and pious Saint Nicolas the Confessor," Reinault swore,
"that sooner than see this huckster go unpunished, I would lock Hell's
gate on him with my own hands!"

For a moment Adhelmar stood with his jaws puffed out, as if in thought,
and then he laughed like a wolf. Afterward he went to the White Turret,
leaving Reinault smiling over his wine.


4. _Folly Diversely Attested_

He found Melite alone. She had robed herself in black, and had gathered
her gold hair about her face like a heavy veil, and sat weeping into it
for the plight of Hugues d'Arques.

"Melite!" cried Adhelmar; "Melite!" The Demoiselle de Puysange rose with
a start, and, seeing him standing in the doorway, ran to him, incompetent
little hands fluttering before her like frightened doves. She was very
tired, by that day-long arguing with her brother's notions about honor
and knightly faith and such foolish matters, and to her weariness
Adhelmar seemed strength incarnate; surely he, if any one, could aid
Hugues and bring him safe out of the grim marshal's claws. For the
moment, perhaps, she had forgotten the feud which existed between
Adhelmar and the Sieur d'Arques; but in any event, I am convinced, she