CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Emerson Crosby 
 Kelly, M.D. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 1356.C66F7 1891 
 
 The fortunes of Conrad,a novel.By Sylvan 
 
 3 1924 022 058 204 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022058204 
 
No- 9- June 7th, 1891. Price, 25 Cents. 
 
 THE POPULAR SERIES 
 
 Issued Semi- Monthly. 
 
 The Fortunes 
 
 OF Conrad 
 
 By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr, 
 
 Author of " The Gunmaker of Moscow," etc 
 
 Single Numbers 25 Cents. 
 By Subaeriplion, (24 iVo».) $6 per Annum. 
 
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THE 
 
 FORTUNES OF CONRAD. 
 
THE 
 
 FORTUNES OF CONRAD 
 
 a iN'oud. 
 
 BY 
 
 Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 
 
 Author of " The Gunmaker of Moscow," " Rollq 
 
 OF Normandy," "Outcast of Milan," 
 
 "Conspirator of Cordova," ETa 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 ROBERT BONNER'S SONS, 
 publishers. ', 
 
 THE POPULAR SERIES ! ISSUED SEMl-MONTHLr. 8UBBMIPTI0N PRICE, SIX DDLURS PER »»»UM. »0. •, 
 JUNE /, 1««I. E«TEI1E0 *T THE NEW YORK, It, Y., POST OPPIOE M SSOONIJ GUSS MAIL MATTER. 
 
COFTBIOHT, 1866 and 1S91, 
 BY BOBEBT BONNEB'S SOKS. 
 
 iJU rights reserved,} 
 
 n^t^ or 
 
 I'HS NEW yORK LEDGER, 
 NEW YORK. 
 
THE FORTUNES OF CONRAD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE COT AND THE CAVERN, 
 
 In a quiet, lovely valley, among the Nord Mountains 
 in Brittany, close by the head-waters of the Meu, stood 
 a small cot, with wooden walls, and a sharp roof 
 thatched with straw. Attached to the cot were a few 
 small outbuildings, and a sheep-fold. A large, noble- 
 looking dog lay upon the grass before the door, ever 
 and anon moving his head, and changing his position, as 
 though he were waiting for some one to come out. 
 The scene from this spot was wild and grand. A few 
 acres of open, grassy space, was bounded by a dense 
 wood, broken here and there by crags of rock ; while in 
 the distance the dark old mountains, crowned with 
 heavy forests, arose against the blue sky ; and all the 
 while, by day and by night, the waters of the river, 
 Speeding down from their hill-side sources, sent forth a 
 rolling murmur, making vocal the Spirit of that forest 
 haunt. 
 
8 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Within the cot, in the apartment which served as a 
 sitting and eating-room, sat a woman who had passed .^ 
 well into the winter of life. Her hair was gray, and her 
 kindly-fashioned face was marked with many furrows. 
 She was at least three-score-and-ten ; but her form was 
 erect, and her eye was bright ; though care had left 
 some traces upon her brow. 
 
 Near to her, upon the stool of the window, leaned a 
 young man, whose life had not yet reached the span of 
 more than three-and-twenty years. He was tall, and 
 fair of form, with gently sloping shoulders and swelling 
 chest. His hair, of a nut-brown color, curled closely 
 about his neck and temples, and his features were 
 formed after the model of the grandest style of Roman 
 beauty. He did not seem to present a very powerful v 
 frame, if one only looked at the outline of his form ; " 
 but there was a massiveness in his structure — a con- 
 centration of power in that firmly-set hand — a flashing 
 of the dark hazel eye— a curling of the finely chiselled 
 lip— and a nervous delicacy in the tapering limbs, that 
 told the keen observer of wondrous force. His costume 
 was simple and neat. He wore a shepherd's frock of 
 blue cloth, secured at the waist by a broad leathern belt, 
 which was fastened with a heavy silver buckle. His 
 1 eggins were of leather, such as the antelope hunters wore ; 
 and upon his feet he wop light hunting shoes. His cap', 
 which he held in his hand,was of red cloth, with a band of 
 black velvet, and adorned with a few eagle feathers. 
 
 " Ah, Conrad," said the woman, with a slight show of 
 regret in her tone and manner, " I may as well give up 
 all hope of ever seeing you in the Church." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear mother, you speak truly," returned 
 the youth, in a tone of rare sweetness and depth. « If 
 you had meant to make a priest of me you should not 
 have brought me to these mountains. You should not 
 
The Cot and the Cavern. 9 
 
 liave allowed me to breathe this fresh air, and roam 
 through these grand old forests. These mountains are 
 not the stepping-stones to the cell of a convent. No, 
 no — I cannot renounce the life of a free mountaineer 
 for the cowl and cassock." 
 
 Marguerite bowed her head, and smoothed down the 
 folds of her dress. 
 
 " I fear," she at length said, raising her eyes once 
 more to the youth, "that our good Francisco has not 
 labored very hard to turn your thoughts away from 
 worldly things." 
 
 Conrad smiled, and played with the feathers of his cap. 
 
 " I think," he replied, " that Francisco was once a 
 soldier." 
 
 " Yes," added Marguerite ; " he was, in his early man- 
 hood, one of the bravest and fnost valiant of the war- 
 riors of Brittany ; but that was many years ago. When 
 he undertook your education, he had renounced the 
 sword, and had resolved to lead the life of a hermit." 
 
 " And has he not kept his resolution ?" asked Conrad. 
 
 " Aye, I think he has ; but yet, my son,ihe has not suc- 
 ceeded in bending your mind as I had hoped." 
 
 " Simply, my dear mother, because you hoped for 
 that which is impossible. I tell you, Francisco has 
 done his best ; and if he has finally presented you with 
 a young man wholly imfitted for holy orders, be assured 
 he has returned to you a faithful and loving son, who 
 will serve you and' protect you with all his power of 
 soul and strength." 
 
 He approached his mother as he spoke, and stooped 
 to kiss her. She wound her arms about his neck, and 
 gently murmured : 
 
 ^' Good, noble boy. Heaven shield and guard thee !" 
 
 It was early in the day, and when Conrad left the cot 
 he took his way towards a point in the forest where 
 
lo The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 great rocky bluffs lifted their heads above the tops of 
 the trees; and when he stopped it was before the 
 entrance to a cave. 
 
 " Ah, my son ; I give thee a good-morning !" 
 
 ■The speaker was an old man, past three-score, with 
 hair and beard well whitened, and possessing a form 
 still upright and stalwart. He was habited in a long- 
 robe of gray stuff, and carried a staff in his hand. His 
 face was bronzed, and full of hard lines, but they were 
 bluff, honest lines ; for his heart was kind, and his soul 
 was above all littleness. Francisco, the Hermit, was 
 known and loved by all who had ever had occasion to 
 seek his hospitality or his assistance. The hardy moun- 
 taineers, who saw him often, spoke of him as one who 
 had become disgusted with the world, and who had 
 sought the retirement of the mountain cave that the 
 evening of his life might be passed in peace and quietness. 
 
 "Good father," returned the youth, in tones of 
 mingled love and reverence, " I find thee well and 
 hearty, for which I thank God." 
 
 Teacher and pupil embraced each other, and then 
 seated themselves upon a broad stone, beneath the 
 branches of a giant old oak. 
 
 " How is it with your mother this morning ?" asked 
 the hermit. 
 
 " My mother is well, and she has spoken again- con- 
 cerning my taking holy orders ; but I think she will 
 rest now. She must see by this time that I cannot 
 enter the Church; And, moreover, this morning, after 1 
 had announced my fixed purpose not to assume the 
 priestly robes, she blessed me." 
 
 " Your mother means well, Conrad ; and perhaps it 
 had been better that another teacher than myself had 
 been given thee. Between you and me there are no 
 secrets touching my past life. I am an old soldier and 
 
The Cot and the Cavern. i r 
 
 the clang of steel hath still a charm for me. 1 found 
 thee apt and strong, with a disposition to manly exer- 
 cise ; and I could not resist the impulse to give thee 
 such education as every free man ought to possess. If 
 I have done wrong, they must blame my head, and not 
 my heart. If you were to have been a priest, you 
 should have been given to the old Abbot of Saint 
 Aubin instead of to me. Dagobert was a priest, and I 
 was a soldier. They made a poor choice. I' faith, 
 when I found of what stuff you were made, I could no 
 more have helped placing a sword in your hand than I 
 could have helped giving bread to a starving man. 
 When I saw the lightning-flash in your eye, and the 
 tower of strength in your broad breast and shoulders, 
 and the steel-like tenacity of the muscles in your wrist, 
 I should have sinned against my own conscience had I 
 kept the use of the sword and buckler from thee." 
 
 Conrad's face beamed with pride and joy as the old 
 man thus spoke. 
 
 " And am I, father, so proficient in the use of arms as 
 you would lead me to belipve ?" 
 
 " By my life," cried the hermit, with honest energy, 
 " I never met your superior — ^never. Should the time 
 ever come when your life shall hang upon your sword, 
 you have only to remember the instructions I have given 
 you. Your arm is strong enough ; your wrist is like a 
 mass of finely tempered steel ; but keep your head cool, 
 and your heart quiet Keep your head cool— your head 
 Cool, my boy. By my soul, you have an eye as quick as 
 the flash of light." 
 
 "O, I should like to see a battle!" exclaimed the 
 youth, starting to his feet, " I should like to draw my 
 sword in the defence of some glorious cause !" 
 
 " Hus^i, hushj ;i|y son." /..The hermit trembled, and 
 8««m©d troubled. " I fear I hav® done wrong." 
 
12 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 "In what, father?" 
 
 "In that I have led thee to such desires. Your 
 mother does not know that I have spent so much time 
 in giving thee this dangeirous education. Let it rest 
 where it is. Defend yourself always against mortal dan- 
 ger ; but do not seek that danger." 
 
 Conrad was upon the point of replying, when he was 
 interrupted by the approach of two strangers. They 
 were two middle-aged, powerfully built men, habited in 
 the garbs of pilgrims. Francisco offered them seats ; 
 but they respectfully declined. 
 
 " We are not weary, good father ; for we have left our 
 horses not far away. We do not seek shelter ; nor are 
 we in search for food. Somewhere, to the eastward, 
 beyond these dark mountain forests, in Mayenne, is the 
 Monastery of Saint George. We wish to go thither, and 
 we do not know the way. Therefore we seek a guide. 
 Half a league from here we met a shepherd who 
 informed us that a youth named Conrad, living in a cot 
 by the river, would be an efficient guide. We stopped 
 at the cot, and the goo(^ mother whom we found there 
 directed us hither." 
 
 " The shepherd told you truly," said Conrad, advanc- 
 ing a step. " I know every path in this forest, and can 
 lead you to every mountain pass." 
 
 " And you are the youth of whom the shepherd spoke ?" 
 
 " I am." 
 
 The pilgrim ran his eyes over the fair, youthful form, 
 and then continued : 
 
 " We want a guide, and we will pay well for the ser- 
 vice. Will you go with us ?" 
 
 " If it please my mother, and my good old friend, the 
 hermit, I will do so with pleasure." 
 
 " You will not regret it, my friend," returned the pil- 
 grim, " We will reward you' wellt" 
 
The Cot and the Cavern. 13 
 
 " I think not of reward," said Conrad, shaking his head. 
 
 " And yet, a few pieces of gold would not harm you." 
 
 " True, sir Pilgrim. If you have gold to spare, and I 
 can fairly earn it, I shall not refuse it." 
 
 " Then let us make the contract, so that you shall not 
 depend upon a bounty, while we shall not be expected 
 to give more 'than may be just." 
 
 " Xtat is the true way," said Francisco. 
 
 " Then," resumed the pilgrim, who had thus far spoken, 
 " we will give ten crowns to the man who shall guide us 
 safely to the Monastery of Saint George, in Mavenne.* 
 
 Conrad considered the sum a large one, and was ready 
 to accept the terms. He went up to the cot, where he 
 acquainted his mother with what was require^ of him, 
 and asked her permission to accept the proposed terms. 
 Marguerite would have shrunk from allowing the youth 
 to expose himself to danger ; but she could see no 
 danger in the service thus required of him. She had a 
 great respect for priests, and monks, and pilgrims ; and 
 there was no place in the world to which she would 
 sooner have sent her son than to a monastery ; so she 
 freely gave her consent, only asking him to go and 
 come as quickly as possible. He promised to waste no 
 time upon the road ; and, having received her blessing, 
 he went down to the hermit's cave, to prepare for his 
 expedition. 
 
 From an inner apartment of the cavern, Frahdsco 
 brought forth a sword and a dagger. ' 
 
 " My son," he said, " you know the temper of this 
 sword, and yon know its weight. A better blade was 
 never drawn in Brittany. There may bie no need of 
 this in ilie work- upon which you are going,; but its 
 presence can. do you no harm. You will not forget the 
 instructions I have heretofore given yott. We canntrt; 
 tell what ydvi may meet upon yout -road, Reftaemt^ei, 
 
14 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 you are never to seek a quarrel. You will never inter- 
 fere in other people's business, unless it be to protect a 
 woman, or to assist an oppressed fellow-creature who 
 may demand your aid. In short — never seek danger 
 for the sake of adventure ; and never flee from danger 
 but with honor. 
 
 "And now, one word touching these pilgrims. I 
 would not have you "be over-suspicious ; and yet it is 
 well that you should be ever on your guard against 
 imposition ; and to this end all suspicious circumstances 
 must be considered." 
 
 " And do you discover anything suspicious about these 
 men ?" asked Conrad. 
 
 " Only this," replied the hermit : " In my day, pil- 
 grims did not usually -travel on horseback. But these- 
 men may be true and honest for all that. Nevertheless, 
 you can keep your eyes open." 
 
 Conrad thanked his tutor for these hints, and then 
 went out and mounted his horse, which he had brought 
 down from the cot. He sat easily in the saddle, like a 
 soldier who had seen much service ; and his long, heavy 
 sword was borne with grace. 
 
 " By the life of me," muttered Francisco, as the youth 
 rode away, " he is the fairest man I ever saw. Woe 
 unto the man who excites his wrath ; and woe unto the 
 heart of the maiden who meets the light of his flashing 
 eye !" 
 
 The old man sat upon the broad stone, with his eye 
 fixed upon the point in the wood where the youth had 
 disappeared, when he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and 
 on looking up he beheld Marguerite. 
 
 " Ah, my sister, are you lonesome so soon ?" ' 
 
 " No, Francisco, I ani not yet lonesome ; but I wish 
 to talk with you about Conrad." 
 
 " We could hot Converse upon a better theme ; so sit 
 
The Cot and the Cavern. 15 
 
 thee down, and let us commence. You look troubled, 
 Marguerite. Are you afraid that the boy has gone into 
 danger ?" 
 
 " I do not think that the gpiiding of those two pilgrims 
 is dangerous ; but I do fear that danger is before him. 
 Ah, Francesco, you have not done as you should." 
 
 " Mercy ! What have I done out of the way ?" 
 
 " You have been the boy's tutor ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "And you knew that he was destined for the 
 Church ?" 
 
 " I knew that such a consummation had been thought 
 of." 
 
 " And yet you have given him an education entirely 
 Tmfitting him for holy orders." 
 
 " Why was he put into my hands ?" 
 
 " Because you were thought to be true and faithful." 
 
 " Aye — and so I have been." 
 
 " You were npt asked to teach the boy the art of war." 
 
 " Have 1 done so ?" 
 
 " Have you not ?" 
 
 " Hold, Marguerite. Let us understand each other. 
 I see your meaning, and I will meet you fairly. Sup- 
 pose you should to-day bear to me a young, tmfledged 
 eagle, and bid me rear it as I would a hen, or a goose. 
 By and by the eye begins to gain fire ; the beak grows 
 sharp and fierce ; the talons become strong and tena- 
 cious; and the Wings spread themselves with mighty 
 instinct of power. What shall I do ? The bird is not 
 a hen ; it is not a goose. Following the law of its life it 
 has grown to be an eagle. 1 can clip its wings, I can 
 cut ofiE its talons ; and I can mutilate the sharp beak. 
 And what then ? Have I made it anything different 
 from what it was ? I have made it less than it should be ; 
 I have taken away its power, and destroyed its beauty ; 
 
1 6 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 but I can never change its nature. In the time to come 
 the wings may grow again, and the eagle will soar aloft 
 into its native element : and if I have deprived it of its 
 beak and talons, then I have made it a thing to be 
 despised and pitied by its kind. 
 
 "Listen to me, Marguerite, Just as well might the 
 fowler attempt to train the eaglet up to herd with geese, 
 as I to train Conrad up to be a priest. I never ofifered 
 him a sword. He demanded it. He found my old 
 chronicles, and read them ; and from that time his soul 
 was filled with love of bold and daring deeds. And 
 here I am willing to confess my weakness and my fault. 
 When this fire flashed forth in his life, I loved him bet- 
 ter than ever before ; and when he kissed the hilt of my 
 old STVord, and, upon his knees, begged of me to teach 
 him how to use it, I could not refuse him. And Mar- 
 guerite, I think I hazard little in sa3dng that the youth 
 'whom you destined for the Church is, today, the best 
 swordsman in Brittany." 
 
 " That cannot be," said the woman, with surprise. 
 
 " And yet it is so," confidently returned the hermit. 
 "Thirty years ago I was acknowledged the champion 
 swordsman of our army. Conrad has not only learned 
 all that I ever knew ; but he possesses such a strength 
 of arms, and a power of bones and muscle in the wrist, 
 as I never saw equalled." 
 
 "Well, well," said Marguerite, after some reflection, 
 " I have no desire to lodge blame upon your shoulders 
 Francisco ; but since matters have turned out as they 
 have, we must form some new plan for our charge. He 
 will not enter the Church, and it is very evident that he 
 will not be long contented to remain in this secluded 
 place." 
 
 " I agree with you," said the hermit 
 
The Veiled Lady. " ly 
 
 *And," pursued the woman, witli a slight shudder, 
 " he must not go to Vannes." 
 
 " Not at present." 
 
 "Never! Never!" pronounced Marguerite. "If he 
 leaves this vale, we must send him as far away from the 
 capital as possible." 
 
 " Let us wait untU he returns from Mayenne," sug- 
 gested the old man, " and then frankly and freely advise 
 with him ; for I tell you, he is no longer to be controlled 
 against his own inclinations, unless we can show him 
 good cause. If you like, we can send for Dagobert." 
 
 " We will wait," said Marguerite. " We will see 
 Conrad first ; and then we will call upon the old Abbot 
 if necessary. O, woe is me if harm come to the child !" 
 
 The hermit made no reply, and the woman arose and 
 returned to her cot. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE VEILED LADY, 
 
 At a short distance from the cot, by the edge of the 
 road, Conrad foimd the two pilgrims, who had unhitched 
 their horses, and were prepared to mount. 
 
 " If we are to travel together," said our hero,. " it 
 would be pleasant for me to know your names." 
 
 "Most assuredly," replied one of them, with a light 
 laugh. " I am called Baptiste ; and this man's name is 
 Adolphe. But, gentle sir, I did not think we had 
 engaged a warrior to be bur guide." 
 
 " How?" asked Conrad, as though ne did not compre- 
 hend what was meant. 
 
1 8 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " I alluded to your sword," returned Baptiste. 
 
 " O," cried Conrad, with a smile, " this is not mine. It 
 belongs to my old friend, the hermit ; and he thougtit 
 I had better take it." 
 
 " Perhaps yaw understand its use ?" 
 
 " I should like to do so, sir ; but my quiet, retired life 
 has not given me need for such weapons. I have never 
 used the sword except in play with the hermit ; but I 
 can use the cross-bow, and cast a javelin. I slew a wild 
 boar with my javelin only the day before yesterday." 
 
 "A good deed, truly," said Adolphe. "You were 
 brought up in this forest, I think ?" 
 
 « Yes, sir." 
 
 " Have you ever visited the capital ?" 
 
 « No." 
 
 " By my life, you have been a regular recluse." 
 
 " 1 hope to visit the capital at some time." 
 
 "You owe it to yourself to do so, my dear friend." 
 
 Thus they talked for an hour or more, during which 
 time they rode two leagues, and reached the bank of a 
 small tributary of the Meu, where they found two more 
 persons ready to join them. 
 
 "We did not mention these peo;f)le." said Baptiste, 
 with a nod to our hero, " because we were not sure that 
 they would join us. They have come from Pontivy, 
 and are probably going our way. Let me ride on and 
 speak with them." 
 
 The two strangers who had been thus met could not 
 fail to attract Conrad's attention and arouse his curi- 
 osity. One was a man of gigantic stature, mounted 
 upon a powerful war-horse ; and the other was a female, 
 of delicate form, closely veiled, and seated upon a 
 Spanish jennet. The man was armed with sword 
 -and spear, and upon his saddle-bow he carried two 
 spare swords. 
 
The Veiled Lady. 19 
 
 " Who is that giant ?" asked the youth. 
 
 " Ilis name is Goliath," replied Adolphe. " He is the 
 most mighty warrior in, the kingdom." 
 
 " And who is the female ?" 
 
 " I do not know ; but I think she is some lady whom 
 Goliath is conducting to a convent. Let us see what 
 word Baptiste brings back." 
 
 By-a:nd-by Baptiste came. 
 
 " Conrad," he said, addressing the youth with frank 
 familiarity, " would it disturb you if we should conclude 
 to change our plan somewhat ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not," was the guarded reply. 
 
 " Do you know the way to the Norman frontier ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Do you know where the Castle of Saint Cyr is ?" 
 
 " Aye — I know the old structure. It is a vast pile of 
 wall and tower, in the midst of a deep, gloomy forest, 
 just on the confines of Normandy." 
 
 " Well= — this man wishes to be guided to that point, and 
 I have consented to accompany him." 
 
 " What in the world will he do there ?" asked Conrad. 
 
 " O, Saint Cyr is not his final destination ; but, once 
 there, he can easily make his way alone. He is taking 
 with him a nun to convent beyond the border. As for 
 Adolphe and myself, it matters not which way we go. 
 Goliath is our friend, and we wish to please him." 
 
 "Since it matters not to you," said our hero, "it 
 surely matters not to me. Saint Cyr is not more th^ 
 five-and-twsaty leagues distant ; and though the way 
 is through a dense forest for the most part, I can take 
 you there as quickly as the lady will wish to ride." 
 " "Then it is settled," cried Baptiste. And with this 
 Jie rode I5ack to the giant, whom he shortly afterwards 
 brought and introduced to the guide. , 
 
 " This is Goliath of Vannes," he said to the youth. 
 
20 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " And this is Conrad the guide," he added, addressing 
 the giant. 
 
 " A fair youth, truly," spoke Goliath, in a growling 
 tone, and with a smile breaking over his broad, coarse 
 features ; " and,!. think, an honest one." 
 
 " I will serve you, sir, as I have been requested,"- 
 returned Conrad, modestly. 
 
 " Good ! And the sooner we are in motion the better. 
 You can ride on in advance with Baptiste and A,dolph, 
 while I follow with my charge. If you serve us well, I 
 will add something to the sum which has already been 
 promised you." 
 
 The young g^ide would have made some reply to 
 this, but the giant did not wait for it. Conrad viewed , 
 him as he turned to leave, and wondered how his horse 
 could bear him up. He must have been nearly seven 
 feet high, and was stout in proportion. His hands were 
 broad and thick, and his neck was like a bull's. 
 
 " By my life," muttered Conrad to himself, " I shall 
 have no great love for that man. I do not like him. 
 If he thinks I like his flattery, he is mistaken. Bah ! he 
 is too big. I suppose some people would respect the 
 huge mass of flesh, and fear the anger which might call 
 into action those great arms ; but I do neither one nor 
 the other." 
 
 " I think," said Baptiste, speaking to his companion,. 
 but loud enough for Conrad to hear, " that we might 
 wear .those swords which Goliath has to spare. What 
 say you ?" 
 
 " A good idea," replied the other. 
 
 Thereupon Baptiste went up to the giant, and brought 
 back the two swords, which they girded to their loins as 
 though they owned them. 
 
 Goliath drew up on one side with his charge, to allow 
 the others to pass on in advance,, and as Conrad came 
 
The Veiled Lady. 21 
 
 - opposite to the spot he bestowed a searching look upon 
 the veiled female ; but he could see nothing more than 
 he had seen before. He felt sure that she was young ; 
 and he allowed himself to fancy that she was not very 
 happy. Yet in all this he might be mistaken. She 
 might be old, and she might be perfectly contented with 
 her lot. She sat quietly upon her saddle, with her head 
 bowed, the thick, dark shroud that enveloped her reach- 
 ing from her head to her feet. 
 
 It was now a little past noon, and as soon as the nar- 
 row stream had been forded. Baptiste rode up by Con- 
 rad's side and told him that he might travel at good 
 speed while the way would permit. 
 
 "I can lead off just as fast as the lady can ride," 
 repKed the guide. " If it be your pleasure, we may 
 reach the lUe before we sleep." 
 
 « Good ! It shall be so." 
 
 The path was a dark and dubious one ; but Conrad 
 knew it well, and proceeded without any mistakes. 
 Adolphe rode by his side most of the time, while 
 Baptiste remained behind with Goliath and the lady. 
 
 As the guide had promised, they reached a ford of 
 the Ille just at dusk, and when the horses had been 
 secured, Adolphe spread out the supper of bread and 
 dried meat, which be had carried in his saddle-bags. 
 Conrad had hoped that the lady might keep them com- 
 pany at the repast ; but it was not so. She took her 
 food apart, and was allowed to remain by herself while 
 her guardian eat ; but the youth could see that she was 
 not suffered to be wholly free ; for, when Goliath could 
 not see her, he bent his ear to keep the sound of her 
 step. And one thing more Conrad noticed: Both 
 Baptiste and Adolphe seemed to feel an interest in the 
 ^dy's safety ; and, when she. had been: pr6pare4 for the 
 
22 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 night's rest, it became very evident that a strict watch ; 
 was to be kept upon her. 
 
 When Conrad threw himself down beneath the tree 
 which was to serve him as a shelter while he slept, his 
 mind was filled with doubt and suspicion. He did not 
 like the looks of things at all. The hint which he had 
 received from old Francisco may have seived to awake 
 his vigilance ; but, even if the hint had not been given, 
 he could not have failed to suspect. In the first place, 
 he was sure that the three men who were following his 
 lead through the forest, were of one party, and had 
 one interest. He believed that Baptiste had as much 
 interest in caring for the veiled female as Goliath 
 had. And, further, he was convinced that Baptiste and 
 Adolphe were not pilgrims at all ; but that they were 
 soldiers and adventurers. During the afternoon he had 
 heard them converse somewhat, and their language was 
 sadly at variance with the characters they had assumed. 
 Next, Conrad did not believe that they had intended to 
 go to the Monastery in Mayenne. They had calculated, 
 from the first, to go to Normandy ; and Goliath had 
 only remained behind while they came for a guide. 
 
 At this point the youth began seriously to reflect. 
 
 "Why should they have done this?" he asked him- 
 self. " Evidently," his reason answered, " to blind the 
 hermit. They wished that their destination should not 
 be known to those who remained behind. And why 
 this wish? I should like to see that lady's face. I 
 think she is young and beautiful ; and I fear that sihe is 
 taking this course against her will." 
 
 As Conrad thus spoke, he raised himself upon his 
 elbow, and looked towards the place where the lady 
 had lain down. He could not see her, but he saw a 
 tall, dark form standing close by where her bed had 
 been mad* ; and in 9. moment mor« he thought h« 
 
The Veiled Lady. 23 
 
 heard a prayerful voice, low and plaintive, making some 
 supplication. The answer was in the growling tones of 
 the giant ; and he seemed to threaten her. Then the 
 voices ceased and Goliath came away. 
 
 A little while afterwards Conrad fell asleep, and when 
 he awoke the light of day was beginning to break the 
 gloom of the forest. He arose and cared for his horse, 
 and ere long afterwards Adolphe had prepared break- 
 fast. • * 
 
 "Can we not reach Saint Cyr this night?" asked 
 Goliath, after the meal had been eaten. 
 
 " Not easily," replied Conrad. " With a good road 
 we might do it without harming our horses ; but the 
 way from this point is rough and winding. We will be 
 there to-morrow noon." 
 
 The giant was not at all pleased with the reply ; but 
 as he had no power to better the road, he was forced to 
 submit ; though he urged the guide to travel as fast as 
 he could. 
 
 As Conrad had assured them, the path was found to 
 be a difficult one ; and when night came they were 
 a good five leagues from Saint Cyr. They were camped 
 in a deep valley, and the same arrangements were made 
 for resting as on the previous night. 
 
 By this time Conrad's suspicions had" become per- 
 plexing and painful. He was sure that the veiled 
 lady was not a willing companion of the three soldiers ; 
 for, be it understood, he had determined that Baptiste 
 and Adolphe werp educated and practised men-at-arms. 
 It was late when he lay down by the side of his horse, 
 and for a long time he reflected upon the curious cir- 
 cumstances into which he had been thrown. 
 
 "By my life !" he said to himself, "if that lady is 
 being oppressed and wronged, 1 am a party to the foul 
 transaction. If these villains are dragging her away 
 
24 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 from her true friends, I am a base tool in their hands ! 
 Ye gods ! I dislike all three of them ! They have 
 tried to deceive me, and they think to use me as they 
 please. They fancy that I am but an ignorant moun- 
 taineer, ready for any work that will pay me in gold. 
 By the power that made me, they may iind out their 
 mistake !" 
 
 He started to his elbow, and looked around. He 
 wished, to speak with the veiled lady. He had resolved 
 to do so if the thing were possible. Fortimately the 
 placp where he had lain down was between two large 
 trees, so that his movements could not be seen by the 
 soldiers, even if they were awake to watch him. When 
 he had once made up his mind to seek the lady, he was 
 not long in starting upon the attempt. Her place of 
 rest was at some distance, and he was sure that one of 
 the men was close by her ; but this did not deter him. 
 He crept, upon his hands and knees, out from between 
 the two trees, up the slope of a bank, to a cover behind 
 some low bushes. These bushes reached almost to the 
 point where the lady lay, thus affording him a safe 
 shelter to within a very few yards of his destination. 
 He stopped when he arrived at the end of the copse, 
 and soon discovered the female upon a bed of moss, 
 with a large mantle thrown completely over her. One 
 of the men was sitting against a tree, not far oif, the 
 other two being evidently asleep by their horses. 
 While Conrad crouched there under his leafy cover, the 
 man got up from the foot of the tree, and approached 
 the spot where the lady lay. It was Baptiste. *He 
 moved without noise, and when • he had satisfied him- 
 self that all was right, he glided away down the vale, 
 and was soon out of sight. 
 
 " It may be," thought Conrad to himself, " that he 
 has gone to see if I am safe ; but I cannot go back 
 
The Veiled Lady. 25 
 
 now. This is the moment for me, and I must tafeie 
 advantage of it." 
 
 Without stopping for further thought, he moved noise- 
 lessly down to where the lady lay, and spoke to her. She 
 started, as though from a dream, and pulled the mantle 
 from her head. 
 
 " What now ?" she asked, in a tremulous tone, 
 
 " Hush, lady ! Be not alarmed. I am the guide. I 
 may have held unjust suspicions. One word will suf- 
 fice. Are you in need of help ?" 
 
 " O ! in Heaven's name — " , 
 
 " Hush ! Speak not so loudly. I am here unknown 
 to your guards. Am I right in supposing that you are 
 an unwilling companion of these men ?" 
 
 " O, good sir, I am a prisoner ! I have been torn 
 from my friends, and these men are my enemies I" 
 
 She had arisen to a sitting posture, and thrown the 
 ■ mantle from her face ; and, by the dim starlight, Con- 
 rad could see that she was young and beautiful ! or, if 
 his sight failed him, his fancy made up the picture. 
 Her voice was soft and musical, and the outlines of her 
 face were delicate and fair. 
 
 "They are taking you to the Castle of Saint Cyr," 
 said the youth. 
 
 « Who lives there ?" , 
 
 " No one. It is a gloomy old ruiix " 
 
 " O, in the name of the great God, who can reward 
 the true and noble, I pray you, save me if you can !" 
 
 She clasped her hands, and extended them towards 
 him in supplicating mood. 
 
 " Can you — can you save me ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell. Hush ! Here comes Baptiste. 
 Down — down, lady, and keep quiet. I will save you if 
 I can." 
 
 Conrad sought to regain the cover of the bushes with- 
 
26 ' The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 out being detected ; but Baptiste was too quick for 
 him. 
 
 "Hold !" the soldier cried, springing' up the bank. 
 " You cannot escape me. I have been to your resting- 
 place, and found you gone." 
 
 It was not in Conrad's nature to crouch before the 
 detection of any of his acts ; so he arose and faced his 
 opponent. 
 
 " What have you found ?" he asked. 
 
 " What have you found ?" returned Baptiste. 
 
 Conrad hesitated. If he would serve the lady, he 
 must be careful how he exposed his hand. 
 
 " I have found the lady whom you- are conducting 
 away," he replied. 
 
 " Ha ! have you spoken with her ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Upon my life, you are curious." 
 
 " Aye, Baptiste, I am curious. I am curious to know 
 who this lady is." 
 
 " Have you not asked her ?" 
 
 " I have had no opportunity." 
 
 " You have spoken with her," 
 
 " Yes, and she would have asked me to help her, I am 
 sure ; but before I could find out who she was, you dis- 
 turbed me." 
 
 " Perhaps you would have promised to assist her if 
 she had asked such a service at your hand." 
 
 " An unconditional promise of that kind would have 
 been foolish. Still, sir, I should like to know who and 
 what she is." 
 
 Baptiste regarded the youth a few moments in silence 
 and then replied : 
 
 " In the morning you may ask Goliath. He knows all 
 about it. For the present I advise you to return to your 
 
The Veiled Lady. 27 
 
 ■ ■ ■ 5 
 
 place of rest. We must be early astir, and you may 
 need your sleep." 
 
 Conrad walked away, and had just sat down between 
 the two great trees, when Baptiste again approached 
 him. 
 
 " Look ye, my brave youth, — I have a question to ask ; 
 and you may rest assured that you cannot deceive me in 
 your . reply. You have heard enough to make you 
 believe that yonder lady would like to be free from our 
 company. Is it not so ?" 
 
 " It is," frankly replied Conrad. 
 
 "And I believe you would like to help her." 
 
 " You do not misjudge my disposition." 
 
 " Then tell me : Do you mean to guide us to Saint 
 -Cyr ?" 
 
 " Such is my intention." 
 
 "And the words of the lady have not led you to a 
 different conclusion ?" 
 
 " Most assuredly not. I promised to gfuide you to the 
 .Castle of Saint Cyr, and I shall do so, unless you pre- 
 vent ine. But I am at a loss to comprehend the drift of 
 your questions. If I wished to serve the lady, I do not 
 see how 1 could further the object by leaving you and 
 her in the depths of this forest." 
 
 " Never mind," said the soldier, with a shrug of his 
 lislioulders. " I do not think you will harm us ; nor do 
 we mean to harm the lady. Good-night." 
 
 Baptiste went away as he thus spoke, and aftei-wards 
 Conrad lay down upon his grassy bed — ^but not to 
 sleep. He may have dozed a little during the remainder 
 of the night, but he did not so far lose himfeelf in slum- 
 ber but that the falling of a leaf would have awakei^ed 
 him. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 DRAWN SWORDS, 
 
 As soon as it was fairly light Conrad was up, and 
 while he changed the position o£ his horse, so that the 
 animal might feed to better advantage, he noticed that 
 the three soldiers were standing by some bushes only a 
 few yards from him, engaged in conversation. He lis- 
 tened, while he attended to his horse, and heard Bap- 
 tiste relating the adventure of the night. The fellows 
 were conversing in the Spanish language, evidently 
 thinking that the simple mountaineer could not under- 
 stand them ; but in this they were mistaken. Old Fran- 
 cisco had been faithful in the discharge of his duties? 
 and his pupil could converse well in French, Saxon, 
 Spanish and German. The youth had been a diligent 
 student, and he had taken a pride in learning. 
 
 Goliath, when he had heard Baptiste's story, uttered 
 a round oath, in Spanish, and then added : 
 
 " What shall we do ? The boy may know too mugh." 
 
 " How can he know too much ?" asked Baptiste. 
 
 " He may escape us, and make his way back with the 
 story." 
 
 " But we will not be so foolish as to allow him to 
 escape." 
 
 "Suppose he should slip away into some dubious 
 . path while we are on the road ?" 
 
Drawn Swords. 29 
 
 " He will not do so. He will guide us to Saiat Cyr. 
 I fear him not." 
 
 Goliath still hesitated. 
 
 " I pledge you my word," insisted Baptiste, " that he 
 will not leave us. I have made myself sure of that." 
 
 " Then," said the giant, " all may be well. Still, it 
 will do no harm to watch him. If he conducts us to the 
 castle, his meddling will have amounted to nothing. 
 Should he seek to leave us " 
 
 " He will not," repeated Baptiste. 
 
 " But," pursued Goliath, unwilling to give up his point, 
 " if he should, we will serve up his carcass to the vul- 
 tures, and make the rest of our way alone." 
 
 "What did all this mean? As soon as Conrad was 
 alone with his own thoughts he reflected upon what he 
 had heard. What meant Baptiste by saying that the 
 guide could not know too much ? 
 
 " By my soul, there is a deep plot in this ; and, I fear, 
 a deadly one," said Gonrad, to himself. " I cannot know 
 too much, because / am not to be allowed to return to Brit- 
 tany with my story" 
 
 He paced up and down by the side of his horse a few 
 times, and at length he stopped, with his hand upon the 
 hilt of his sword. 
 
 " I see it all," he muttered between his closed teeth 
 and tightly compressed Hps. " I am to be sacrificed to 
 their secret I I am to conduct them to the Castle of 
 Saint Cyr, and when, they want me no more they plan 
 to put me to death. Gentlemen, I understand you ! I 
 will guide you to the castle as I promised ; and beyond 
 that my work remains to be planned." 
 
 He drew his sword half way from its scabbard, and 
 then thrust it back with an emphatic movement. He 
 was certain that the three men meant to kill him as soon 
 as he had led them to the end of their journey. They 
 
30 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 were upon some business which must not be known in 
 Brittany. The story of going to St. George, in 
 Mayenne, which had been told in the hearing of the old 
 hermit and Marguerite, had been only a part of their 
 plan to keep their whereabouts a secret. They had 
 fallen upon a poor mountaineer, who would not be much 
 missed, and they meant to use him as a sorely pressed, 
 retreating army uses a bridge— cutting it away when it 
 has served their turn. And yet the youth had not the 
 slightest emotion of fear. So much reliance had he 
 upon his own .prowess, that he rather courted the 
 adventure — not for the sake of the conflict, simply ; but 
 for the sake, in part, of the mysterious lady. While the 
 men-at-arins watched him, he could also be watchin^ff' 
 them. As for surprise, he did not fear that ; for he was 
 assured that he would be suffered to proceed to the end 
 of the journey before they attempted to harm him ; and 
 when once there he could look out for himself. Of 
 course there was danger — ^he realized it fully — ^but 
 this only served to excite him to sterner resolve. 
 
 When they were ready to start, the guide took his 
 place at the head of the party ; and aftei* they had 
 proceeded a league or so, Goliath rode up by his side, 
 seeming more pleasant than usual, and opening the con; 
 versation with a smile. Many questions were asked 
 touching the country, and the forest, and also in rela- 
 tion to the different paths which led around among the 
 mountains. Conrad soon saw the drift of the giant's 
 interrogations, and his answers were given frankly and 
 without hesitation. The stout man-at-arms had simply 
 come to assure himself that their guide did not mean to 
 give them the slip ; and when he fell back to the lady's 
 side again he seemed to be fully assured that all was 
 safe and right. 
 
 The stm had almost reached its meridian height when 
 
Drawn Swords. ' 31 
 
 the party arrived at a deep, rocky glade, entirely shut in 
 by frowning crags and towering old trees. They had 
 entered by a narrow pass, and at the other extremity of 
 the glade was the way of egress, by a pass full as narrow ; 
 and Conrad knew that when the next defile had been 
 cleared, the walls and battlements of Saint Cyr would 
 -be in sight. He drew his rein with a more nervous 
 grasp, and instinctively cast his eyes down upon the 
 hilt of his sword. During the forenoon he had watched 
 the signs ot his companions most narrowly, and his 
 ' suspicions of the morning had been strengthened even 
 to confirmation. The purpose of the men-at-arms 
 touchina^imself was not to be misunderstood. There 
 was, t^hem, a weighty reason why their course should 
 nofe'^known in Brittany, and why the footsteps of the 
 'veiled lady should not be followed ; and they con- 
 sidered their secret fully worth a human life ! 
 
 As they came near to the extremity of the gorge, 
 Goliath agam rode up to Conrad's side, and addressmg 
 him in Spanish, asked : 
 " How mucn further have we to travel ?" 
 The youth was not to be caught, for his wit was as 
 quick as was the flash of his eye. He turned, and 
 looked into the giant's tace. 
 " Did you speak to me, sir ?" 
 
 " Yes,'- answered GoHath, still in Spanish. " I asked 
 ' you how much further we had to travel." 
 Conrad shook his head. 
 " Perhaps yotl don't understand Spanish ?" 
 « How should I ? Spaniards are not plenty in the 
 Nord Mountains." 
 
 " I dia not know but that you had had some oppot- 
 tunity for learning it." ■, x ^ ^ 
 
 « We poor mountaineers consider ourselves fortunate 
 
32 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 if we can learn to speak the language of Brittany so as 
 be understood by men from the court." •• ^ 
 
 "Well— never mind," said the giant, in his own? 
 tongue ; " I asked you how much further we had to 
 travel." 
 
 "Not much, sir. The Castle of Saint Cyr is not far 
 beyond this gorge. We can take dinner there, if no 
 accident happens to prevent it." 
 
 Goliath fell back and rode by the side of Baptiste. 
 Conrad did not appear to watch him, and yet he 
 regarded his every movement, and kept his ears open, 
 
 " I think the castle is near at hand." Goliath spoke 
 thus, in Spanish, to Baptiste. 
 - *' I am of the same opinion," replied the latter. 
 . "lind," pursued the giant, " when we come?f 
 of the walls, we can dismiss our guide." 
 " Certainly," responded Baptiste. 
 " It would be a little cowardly to strike him — " 
 " Hush ! He may overhear us." 
 " There is no fear. He does not understand Spanish. 
 I was saying, it would be rather cowardly to strike him 
 in the dark. I don't mind his life ; but we are soldiers 
 and I would not like to murder him outright." 
 ^' What will you do ?" asked Baptiste. 
 " We must give the shadow of honorable combat to 
 his death. I would provoke him to a quarrel ; but that,- 
 would seem monstrous. The combat would be rather 
 too unequal." And Goliath, as he spoke, drew himself 
 up as though he were atsolutely invincible. 
 
 •" By the mass, you are right," cried Baptiste, who now 
 fully comprehended his companion's, meaning. « I will 
 take him upon my own hands. The combat cannot be 
 a very equal one even against me ; but it will be better 
 than to crush him beneath your ponderous arm.'' 
 " Then we may consider that matter settled." 
 
Drawn Swords. ^i 
 
 " Yes/' said Baptiste. " I will deliver us of the guide. 
 Ha ha, — the youngster shall find use for his sword, 
 after all." 
 
 Conrad heard eyery word, and from that moment he 
 felt easy. , In fact, he felt anxious for the moment to 
 arrive when the double-dyed villain should provoke 
 nim to draw his sword. The time was about to come 
 when he should test the value of the instruction he had 
 received from Francisco, and when the prowess of his 
 arm should be fully tried. He knew that his old 
 
 Jlieacher could not speak falsehood ; and that teacher had 
 assured him that his sword was perfect. • 
 
 The sun had been turned from its highest altitude 
 not more than half an hour when the party entered the 
 deep, narrow deiile which led from the gorge, and when 
 
 ' this was passed, they came out into a broad valley, 
 between two ranges of forest-crowned hills, upon one 
 
 ' ade of which, on a broad swell of gray rock, stood the 
 crumbling walls and ivy-mantled towers of the old 
 castle of Saint Gyr. Conrad had been here once before 
 with Francisco, but the place had nqt looked so grand 
 and gloomy then as it did now. The sun had hidden 
 its face behind a mass of cloud, and the wind was sigh- 
 ing loudly through the branches of the great old trees. 
 The rocks seemed to have grown older beneath their 
 covering of gray moss ; while fhe massive ruin, like a 
 giant spirit of the past, presided in solemn majesty over 
 the place. Even the men-at-arms were moved by the 
 scene, and Goliath fairly went into raptures. 
 
 " I' faith," he cried, " our master hath wonderful taste. 
 He will here enjoy his mistress without fear of inter- 
 ruption. '■ 
 
 "He hath taste and wit both," said Baptiste. 
 '"Sdeath! the lady will not treat him so tartly in this 
 
 rplace. I fancy she will be glad to earn his friendship 
 
34 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 when she finds that this old battle-scarred ruin is to he ^ 
 her home. Heavens ! what a haunt it must be for 
 ghosts." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Conrad, turning in his saddle, and ; 
 pointing to the old pile, " yonder is the castle of Saint . 
 Q,yx, I will serve you further if you wish." - 
 
 " You have come with us far enough," replied| 
 Goliath ; " and I will pay you the sum I promised." 
 
 The giant drew forth his purse, and counted out ten 
 crowns, which he handed to the guide. 
 
 " Let me settle with you also," said Baptiste. " Here 
 is the sum I promised." 
 
 While Baptiste was engaged in counting out his; 
 money, Goliath and Adolphe had withdrawn to the rear, 
 where they took up their position at the entrance of the 
 pass through which the party had just come. 
 
 "Aha," muttered Conrad, to himself, when he saw 
 this movement, " this smacks of business. Those two 
 fellows mean to cut off my retreat, while their com- 
 panion tries my temper. We shall see." 
 
 " I think," said Baptiste, weighing the money in his 
 hand, after he had counted it out, " that you will iind 
 the sum complete." 
 
 Conrad took it, and placed it with that which he had 
 received from Goliath ; and then slipped the whole into 
 his pocket. 
 
 " I am strongly tempted," he said, *' to cast this 
 money upon the ground ; but. I may meet some needy 
 person whom I may bless with it." - 
 
 " Ha ! do you spurn our gift ?" 
 
 " Not at all, good Baptiste ; for, you see, I have put it 
 into my pocket." 
 
 " Very well," said the man-at-arms, slipping from his 
 saddle. " Now that the matter of money is disposed of 
 I have another subject to introduce. Suppose you 
 
Drawn Swords. 35 
 
 should comg' down, and let your horse feed while we 
 talk." 
 
 "Anything to please you," answered Conrad, suiting 
 the action to the word. " Here I am. Now speak." 
 
 " Easy, young man. You may find yourself in trouble 
 before we get through ; so be careful. What I have to 
 Say is concerning your last night's adventure." 
 
 "And what of that?" 
 
 " I wish to tell you that you then did what you otight 
 not to have done." 
 
 " Go on, sir," said Conrad, as coolly as though he had 
 been receiving some commonplace instruction, 
 
 " You gained more intelligence from the lady than 
 you have confessed," continued Baptiste, growing red 
 in the face. 
 
 " I have confessed but little, good slfe, for I heard btit 
 little. But do not burst yourself in your effort to find 
 fault with me. If you have any questions to ask, ask 
 them." 
 
 " "What I' seek I shall demand! Do you understand 
 that ?" 
 
 Conrad felt that the crisis was coming. His nether 
 lip began to contract, and there was a nervous move- 
 ment about the fingers of his rig'ht hand. 
 
 " You need not make any demands of me," he said, 
 quietly. " What you seek you can ask for, and I will 
 answer as I feel inclined." 
 
 " What I demand is this," retorted Baptiste, insultingly ; 
 " you shall not mention to that drivelling old hermit 
 either that you conducted us to Saint Cyr, or that we 
 had a lady with us. Will you promise me this ?" 
 
 " Never !" answered the youth. " When I leave you 
 my tongue is my own, and I shall tell what I please. In 
 all probability I shall tell the hermit just what I have 
 done, and what I have seen," 
 
36 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Then, by the gods ! you must overcoiBe me before^ 
 you leave this place ; for, I swear by the heaven above| 
 me, that I will not let you pass with that avowal invyour 
 mouth !" 
 
 " Do you attack me ?" 
 
 " Aye. Defend yourself, if you have the courage." 
 
 "Easy, good Baptiste," said Conrad, drawing his 
 sword. " You rush into this quarrel hotly. Do you 
 know wherefore you fight ?" 
 
 " Aye — ^to silence your insulting tongue !" 
 
 "And I," added the youth, with perfect calmness, ■ 
 " fight to defend myself." 
 
 He spoke calmly ; but yet there was an anxious 
 expression in the contraction of the lips, and in the light 
 of the eye. It was his first essay at mortal combat — ^the 
 first time that life had ever hung upon his sword. And, 
 further still : .Behind the stout soldier thus opposed to 
 him stood two more — one of them a giant in stature and 
 in strength." If he overcame Baptiste, what then? 
 Could he overcome both the others ? And could he 
 pass from that scene alive if he did not overcome themi' 
 
 What wonder, then, that his heart hushed its beatings 
 for the moment that these thoughts were flashing; 
 through his mind. 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 A CHANGE OF GUARD. 
 
 Baptiste, be it remembered, was a large, strong man, 
 and an experienced warrior. By the side of his gigantic 
 leader he did not show to so good advantage ; but- he 
 was taller than Conrad, and much heavier ; and he 
 
A Change of Guards. 2i7 
 
 flourished his sword with the air of one STipremely con- 
 fident of his own prowess. 
 
 " Poor boy !" he sai4, advancing his right foot, and 
 twirling his sword to a favorite guard, "you have 
 brought this upon yourself." 
 
 " I ask no pity," replied our hero, glad of an oppor- 
 tunity to speak, for it gave relief to his breathing. " If 
 you have work to do, set about it at once." 
 
 " I thank you for the hint," returned Baptiste. " I 
 will finish my work, and then go to my dinner. Take 
 your own method of defence." 
 
 The man-at-arms swept his point to the right and 
 to the left, and then made a direct and furious thrust, 
 evidently intending therewith to finish the play ; but 
 his mark was not reached. The point of his antagonist 
 had kept even pace with his own, and when he made 
 the thrust his blade only glided harmlessly tinder the 
 mountaineer's arm. 
 
 Baptiste recovered himself quickly, and commenced a 
 new attack — a thrust— a sweep to the right— to the left 
 —then back to the right — a feint at the neck — with a 
 final push at the breast ; and yet his point only cleaved 
 the open air. He recovered himself, and stepped back. 
 
 " Your old hermit must be a marvelous teacher," he 
 said. • 
 
 " He has been a kind and attentive one, at all events," 
 replied Conrad, 
 
 " If I ever see him again, I'll tell him how well his 
 pupil bore himself. Come— we will play no more." 
 
 The swords crossed again, with a clang that spoke of 
 sharp work. The man-at-arms had found his opponent 
 better than he had expected, and he concluded not to 
 expend more time in fancy fencing. It was now a cut, and 
 .a thrust— a step backward— a step forward— a feint— a 
 lunge ; and yet the young guide was not touched. Now 
 
38 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Baptiste shut Ms teeth, and commenced a new mow- 
 ment. Presently lie caiight Conrad's blade with a 
 twisting movement of his own, as though he would 
 wrench it from its owner's grasp ; but such was not 
 his intention, as the youth could- detect by his eye. 
 The aim of this was, to cause Conrad to clutch his hilt so 
 nervously as to paralyze, for the instant, the nerve of 
 the wrist ; and, during that instant, to slip his blade 
 away and push it home into the body of his antagonist. 
 The mountaineer, however, had been thoroughly 
 trained in all those movements, and when he felt the 
 sword of his adversary thus winding about his own, he 
 simply leaped backwards without breaking his guard; 
 and at the same instant Baptiste, from the impetus 
 already given, took a step forward. As he did so, Conrad 
 struck a smart blow upon his upper guard, causing him 
 to clutch his hilt for fear of losing it. The man-at-arms 
 felt his error, and tried to leap from it ; but he was not 
 quick enough. Ere he could disengage his sword from 
 the circle of his opponent, his point was thrown 
 vigorously aside, and on the next moment the blade of 
 the fore-doomed guide had found his heart. 
 
 Conrad stepped back, and rested his reeking point 
 upon the greensward. 
 
 " I am a dead man !" gasped Baptisfe, sinking to the 
 earth, with both hands pressed upon his gushing bosom. 
 
 " It is your own work," answered Conrad. 
 
 "-O— you lied to me ! I am the best swordsman 
 in " 
 
 His speech failed him, and he fell back dead ; and 
 very quickly afterwards Goliath reached the spot, and 
 leaped from his saddle. 
 
 "Dog! What have you done?" cried the giant, 
 drawing his sword 
 
A Change of Guards. 39 
 
 " You see what I have done," replied Conrad, drawing 
 J back a pace. 
 
 " Ayfe, — ^you have, by some foul chance of trick, sent 
 ' Baptiste to the world of spirits ; and I'll send thee right 
 quickly to join him." 
 
 Conrad had been taught that mere brute strength 
 could not. make a swordsman. The possession of phy- 
 sical power was a necessity ; but it needed to be coupled 
 with elasticity of muscle ; quickness and steadiness of 
 nerve ; delicacy of touch ; litheness of limb ; instanta- 
 neous perception of sight ; and perfect coolness of head. 
 Even the different rriembers need to borrow, for the 
 time, each other's qualities. The eye must feel before 
 it can see, and the fingers must " see and think." All 
 these things our hero understood ; and his passage with 
 Baptiste had served to assure him that he had not for- 
 gotten the .lessons of his tutor. He had found his late 
 antagonist an expert swordsman, and yet he had not 
 been called upon to exert his utmost skill. Two of the 
 most subtle attacks which Francisco had taught him hfe 
 had not used at all. ^ 
 
 Goliath did not wait for extended preliminaries. He 
 came as an avenger, and at once set about the work. 
 He swept his heavy sword about in a circle, and then 
 aimed a slashing blow at the youth's neck. Conrad 
 simply leaped aside from the stroke, and as he did so he 
 wounded Goliath in the left arm. 
 
 " 'Sblood !" cried the giant, his eyes |,a*bing fury, 
 " you are venomous." 
 
 He would have spoken further, but at that moment 
 he found his sword in a perplexing situation. His 
 youthful adversary had caught it by a twisting lock, and 
 he was forced to lower his hand to keep the grasp of his 
 hilt. 
 
 " I have you now !" he muttered. His eye had 
 
40 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 caught tlie position of the two blades — each, point under 
 the other's guard — and he knew tl^at, i£ he was quick" 
 enough, the strongest wrist would win the chance. As 
 he spoke he lowered his elbow, and sought to raise his 
 hand ; but, to his astonishment, he found that he could 
 not do it. His sword was held as though by a vice ;, 
 and now he sought to do what he might hgive done 
 before — to withdraw his blade ; but he had lost too 
 much time. The- discovery that the youth's wrist was 
 stronger than his own seemed for the moment to par-, 
 alyze him, and before he could so far recover from his 
 astoundment as to draw back his arm, his weapon was 
 borne down till his wrist fairly .cracked. Conrad saw the 
 painful clutching of those huge fingers, and he knew 
 that the hand must be weak. With a quick movement 
 he disengaged his sword, raised the point to the giant's 
 heart, and lunged forward with all his miglit. 
 
 Goliath saw the fatal blow even before it was fairly 
 aimed, and he tried to ward it- off with his left hand; 
 but his fate was sealed, and his huge carcass soon lay 
 close by that of his fallen companion. 
 
 Adolphe saw his leader fall ; and his sword, which 
 had been half drawn from its scabbard, was pushed 
 back- again. His first thought had apparently been of 
 assisting Goliath ; but he hesitated alone to attack the 
 man who had displayed such wonderful prowess ; so he 
 remained by the side of the lady whom! he had been left 
 to guard, leaving it for the guide to approach him when 
 he thought proper ; and he did not have long to wait. 
 
 "Now, Master^ Adolphe," cried Conrad, coming 
 towards him, with his sword still drawn, " what demand, 
 have you to make ?" 
 
 Adolphe hesitated. He surveyed the young moun- 
 taineer from head £o foot ; he saw the reeking blade 
 still held with a firm, confident grasp ; and he met the 
 
A Change of Guards. 41 
 
 ■ \ ' ; . 
 
 ;fl:ashing of an eye whose light was like a sunbeam. At 
 length he replied : ■■<' ' 
 
 . " It is for you to demand of me. You have overcome 
 the two men who were my superiors, and I shall not 
 
 ^contend against you. You have deceived ua well." 
 "How have I deceived you ?" 
 
 " You professed that you knew nothing of the sword." 
 "Easy, sir. I professed no such thing. What I told 
 
 .you was the truth. I said that I had only used the 
 Sword in play with old Francisco; and such. was the 
 fact. But know that Francisco is an old soldier, and 
 
 .that he has been one of the best swordsmen in Brittany. 
 But you do well to talk of deception ! Howvdid you 
 deceive me ? By heaven, sir, you will not accuse me of 
 that ! I have a most serious charge to lay upon thy 
 shoulders. You led me upon a base errand, and sought 
 to make me a tool for the consummation of a most foul 
 conspiracy. You professed to be a poor pilgrim seeking 
 a passage to the monastery of St. George ; whereas you 
 were a soldier and an adventurer, engaged in a cruel 
 work." 
 
 " How can you make that out ?" asked Adolphe, trem- 
 bling. 
 
 " Ask the lady by your side. She can tell you. Aye- 
 — and she shall tell you. And now I make my first 
 demand. The lady shall choose with which of us she 
 will go. If she chooses to go with you, I will depart in 
 peace and leave you with your charge. If she prefers 
 to go with me she shall do so. What say you ?" 
 - The man-at-arms seemed at loss for a reply. He 
 gazed from the lady to the guide, and then from the 
 
 . guide to the lady. 
 
 " Hark ye, master Adolphe," said the youth, taking a 
 step forward and raising the point of his sword from the 
 ground ; " if you mean to offer resistance, let me know 
 
42 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 it q.uickly. Come down from your hqrse. Dowfl^ 
 say." 
 
 The soldier slipped from his saddle, remarking as he 
 did so : 
 
 " I am not thinking of resistance. ; I am thinking how 
 I shall answer my master if I freely and voluntarily'? 
 give up the lady/' 
 
 "You need not give her up voluntarily. Let her 
 make her own decision. If she decides to go with you, 
 you will not give her up at all. If she, decides that she 
 will go with me, I will sustain her decision with my 
 sword." 
 
 " No, no," quickly replied the man-at-arms ; " I have 
 no desire to put you to that trouble. And, as far as the 
 lady is concerned, I can already imagine what her 
 answer will be." 
 
 " Let us have her answer at once," said Conrad. He 
 advanced to her side as he spoke, and would have asked 
 her the question ; but she anticipated him. She glided 
 from her saddle, and sank upon her knees before him. 
 
 " O, noble sir, take me to thy protection and save me 
 from the hands o&this soldier ! • Do it, and Heaven will 
 bless thee !" 
 
 The veil had floated away from her face, and her 
 features were exposed. Conrad was for the moment' 
 entranced. He had never even dreamed of such beauty j 
 as he thus beheld. She was not more than eighteen 
 years of age ; of slight, sylph-like form ; and possessing 
 every charm necessary to a picture of angelic loveli^v^ 
 ness. 
 
 " By Saint Michael !" muttered Adolphe, as he 
 beheld the two regarding each other ; " here is a prettyj 
 piece of mischief. If our young mountaineer thinks the" 
 damsel is beautiful, what must she think of him ? By 
 my faith she hath never beheld so fair a, yputh before. 
 
A Change of Guard. 43 
 
 If this does not prove to be the commencement of 
 trouble, then I will never prophesy again."- ® 
 
 In the meantime, Conrad extended his hand to the 
 maiden and lifted her to her feet. 
 
 " I am your servant," he said, " and you may com- 
 mand me. Whithersoever thou wishest to go, thither 
 will I conduct thee." 
 
 " Take me to my home, brave, noble sir. O, conduct 
 me in safety to my father's arms, and all blessing shall 
 be thine." 
 
 " Adolphe," said the youth, turning to the man-at- 
 arms, " you have heard the lady's request-^what say 
 you ?" 
 
 The fellow had been busy with his own thoughts, and 
 when he was thus addressed, he started and gazed into 
 the face of his interlocutor without speaking. 
 
 " Answer rae," continued Conrad. " Will you dare to 
 interpose against the wishes of the lady ?" 
 
 Adolphe laid his finger upon Conrad's arm, and drew 
 him a few steps away, where his low tones could not 
 reach the ear of the maiden. 
 
 " Young sir," he said, with seeming honesty, " let me 
 talk to you soberly and earnestly.. I have no disposition 
 to oppose you by any force, for I have seen enough. to 
 assure me that you are my superior ; but you must per- 
 mit jne to give you a word of warning. It is not against 
 me, a poor man-at-arms, that you are about to raise your 
 interposing hand. You are conspiring against the inter- 
 ests of the most powerful man in the kingdom." 
 
 " Ha," cried Conrad. "Has the King—" 
 
 " Not the king," interrupted Adolphe. 
 
 " And who is more powerful than the king ?" 
 
 » The prince is more powerful. The king is old and 
 broken ; while the prince is in the full flush of youth 
 and vigor. The prince is really ruler in Brittany." 
 
44 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " I have heard that Theobald was growing weak ; but 
 r thought him still king of Brittany." 
 
 " So he is, in name ; but prince Bertrand wields the 
 power, nevertheless." 
 
 " Well — and suppose all this is so — ^what then ?" 
 
 " For your own safety," said Adolphe, " I will tell you 
 that which, perhaps, I ought not to tell. We three men- 
 at-arms were sent by the prince to conduct this lady to 
 the Castle of Saint Cyr. Bertrand will not be likely to' 
 look very favorably upon the man who thwarts him. 
 His enmity is fatal, sir." 
 
 " What more have you to say ?" asked Conrad. 
 
 " 1 have said all, sir. If you t)ursue the cotirse you 
 have decided to adopt, you will brifig down upon your- 
 self the sure vengeance of the prince." 
 
 " I thank you for the information you have given me, 
 Master Adolphe ; but I cannot allow it to alter my 
 determination. I shall take the lady under my charge, - 
 and conduct her to her home." 
 
 " Do you dream where her home is ?" 
 
 " I have not the least idea." 
 
 " Has she told you her name ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 ." Then you know not with whom you have to deal. 
 Allow me to inform you. Sir Mountaineer, that you are 
 mixing yourself up in a dangerous matter. The lady is 
 the daughter of Casimir, Duke of Rennes ; and perhaps 
 you are aware that he stands next in power to the 
 prince." 
 
 " So much the more need is there that the honor of 
 his daughter should be protected." 
 
 " But what if he were a party to this removal -of the 
 lady?" 
 
 " Then he is a most unnatural father ; and I will 
 espouse the cause of his daughter against his tyranny." 
 
A Change of Guard. 45 
 
 Adolphe shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Go your way, sir. And, in the meantime, I hope you 
 will allow me to go mine." 
 
 ," You are at liberty to go where you please." 
 
 " First," said Adolph, " I would pay some little atten- 
 tion to the remains of my fallen companions. We can- 
 not very well dig graves for them ; but if you will assist 
 me to lift the bodies to the backs of their horses, I will 
 carry them to the old castle, where I may find vaults in 
 which they can be properly deposited." 
 
 Conrad saw nothing objectionable in this arrange- 
 ment \ so he went and helped the man-at-arms as he 
 had requested. It was a difficult matter to lift the body 
 of the giant ; but the feat was accomplished ; and when 
 the two corses had been secured upon the backs of the 
 horses, Adolphe mounted his own beast, and set out for 
 the castle upon his ghostly errand. 
 
 When he was gone, Conrad returned to the lady. 
 The look of terror had gone from her face, and the 
 ' youth felt his heart bound with new and strange emo- 
 tion as he now gazed upon her. She was very beautiful ; 
 and there was a softness and depth in the tone of her 
 loveliness that appealed directly to the soul. There 
 was no haughtiness in her manner, no sharpness in the 
 angles of her face ; but all was pure and good ; and the 
 music of her voice sweetly harmonized with the soft, 
 mild light of her eye, and the ^entrancing smile of her 
 lip. 
 
 " Dear lady," said our hero, " I am told that you are 
 the daughter of the Duke of Rennes." 
 
 "Yes, sir; and my name is Rosaline," she replied, 
 with confiding frankness. "And," she added, "since 
 you have done so much for me, and plan to do so much 
 more, I ought to tell you my true situation. The story 
 will be very short." 
 
46 The Fortunes of Cotirad. 
 
 " I should like to hear iti lady." 
 
 "My father," she commenced, "is, ap you already 
 know, Duke of Rennes, and his home is in that city-— or' 
 in the castle close by it. Prince Bertrand, the son of 
 our king, sought my hand. My father was at first 
 anxious that I should accept it ; but the prince was so 
 loathsome to me, and his proposition of marriage so 
 repulsive, that I could not think of it but with horror. 
 My father is an honorable, virtuous man, and when I 
 had convinced him that the prince was a debauchee, 
 and a bad man in other ways, he listened to my protest. 
 I went with him to Vannes, where the royal court is 
 held* ^d there he learned for himself the character 
 which Bertrand bore ; and my hand was refused; The 
 prince came to see me ; he went upon his knees, and 
 vowed, and swore, and begged ; but I would not listen 
 to him. His very presence was painful, and I could not 
 help exposing my feelings. When he had heard my 
 final refusal, and seen the coldness of my bearing 
 toTYards him, he glared upon me like a tiger, and swore 
 that I should be sorry for what I had done. At first I 
 had no fear, for I thought his threats were only the 
 result of. sudden wrath, which would soon pass away. 
 And further, I did not think that he would dare to raise . 
 his hand against the daughter of the most powerful 
 duke in the realm. But I did not know the reckless - 
 daring of the man. One evening, as I walked aloiie in 
 the garden of the house where I was stopping -with my 
 father, two men jumped out from behind some bushes, 
 and seized and bound me, and stopped my mouth. 
 They were Baptiste and Adolphe. They carried me to 
 the wall, where they were joined by the giant, who took 
 me in his arms and bore me swiftly away. I don't 
 know how I came from the city, for excessive terror 
 took away my senses. But, while I was recovering, and 
 
A Change of Guard. ' 47 
 
 1^ "before the three men were aware that my consciousness 
 iwas returning. I heard some words from their lips 
 'Which gave me assurance that they were employed by 
 the prince to carry me away. 
 
 " A night and a day we were on the road ; and then 
 we stopped to rest, Goliath swore that he would kill 
 me if I tried to escape. We rested during the night, and 
 on the following morning Baptiste and Adolphe went 
 in search of a guide. You came back with them ; and 
 Goliath again threatened me with death if I spoke to 
 you. O, when I saw your face — when I saw how kind, 
 and true, and noble you looked, I believed you would 
 help me if you could ; but I dared not speak. The rest 
 you know. You will conduct me back to my father ; 
 and your reward — " 
 
 " Will be already ample when I have performed my 
 duty," finished Conrad, taking the small white hand 
 which she had extended towards him. He held it but a 
 moment ; and then turned away to look after the man- 
 at-arms ; for, since he had heard the lady's story, he 
 had conceived a great desire to speak with the fellow 
 once more. 
 
 " Rest a while," he said, speaking to Rosaline, after 
 the soldier had disappeared beyond the outer walls of 
 the castle with his ghostly load. "There are one or 
 two questions which I would like to ask of Master 
 Adolphe before I lose sight of him for good. I fancy he 
 will not remain long in the old ruin." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ROAD TO RENNES. 
 
 • 
 
 Conrad spoke truly wlien he said that he wished to 
 speak with Master Adolphe ; and yet he did not tell the 
 whole truth. If he had simply wished to see the man- 
 at-arms, there would have been no need of hurry ; but, 
 the fact was, he wished to hide his face from the lady 
 Rosaline. He was under the influence of a spell which 
 he could not break while her eyes beamed upon him. 
 He was being mysteriously entranced — charmed by a 
 magic power. 
 
 " O, my soul !" he murmured to himself, when he had 
 turned away, " this opens to me a new sense of life ; it 
 strikes upon unused chords in my bosom. But this 
 entrance to heaven is not for me. Be still, my beating 
 heart. Let me do my duty. I must return the maiden 
 to her father, and then I must forget her." 
 
 While Rosaline ate her dinner, the youth watched f or , 
 the return of Adolphe ; but no Adolphe came* At the 
 end of an hour he concluded io go to the castle and 
 seek the soldier ; but as he was about to speak with the 
 lady upon the subject he saw a peasant coming towards 
 him from the ruin, with an axe upon his shoulder, 
 and a rope in his hand. He was evidently ^oing into 
 the wood after faggots. Conrad hailed him, and the 
 man came up without hesitation. He was an honest 
 
The Road to Rennes. 49 
 
 Ipoking fellow, and gazed -with a curious surprise upon 
 the mountaineer and Ws lovely companion. 
 
 1 " My good man," said Conrad, " I think you came 
 from yonder old ruin." 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the peasant ; " but I don't live 
 there. My home is more than a league beyond." 
 
 " Did you see a stranger at the castle V 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " What was he doing ?" 
 
 " He was coming up out from the vaults when I first 
 saw him." 
 
 " Do you know what he had been doing ?" 
 
 " No, sir. He didn't look like a man who'' would 
 answer impertinent questions ; so we didn't ask any." 
 
 " You say we. Had you a companion ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I had two." 
 
 " Where are they now ?" 
 
 " They have gone with the stranger. He had two 
 extra horses, and they rode away with him leaving me 
 to work alone." 
 
 " Do you know whither they have gone ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; to the capital of Brittany." 
 
 " Ah, they have taken another road ?" 
 
 " Yes. They will strike the lUe north of these hills, 
 and tjien keep down the valley." 
 
 " Very well," said Conrad, putting his hand into his 
 : pocket, and taking out a silver crown ; "I shall have the 
 . pleasure of returning alone. Here, my good man, take 
 this for your trouble." 
 
 The peasant took the crown with sparkling^yes. 
 
 " Did the stranger seem to be in much of a hurry ?" 
 asked our hero, carelessly. 
 
 '• O, y^s, sir. He wanted my brothers to ride with all 
 - their 'might. * It seemed as thotigh his life depended 
 upon his speed/' 
 
50 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Conrad thanked the peasant once more, and the?i 
 allowed him to depart. 
 
 " Lady," he said, after a little reflection, " would you ; 
 prefer to go to Vannes, where; you left your father, or 
 to your home in Rennes ?" 
 
 " Why do you ask, sir ? You have heard something 
 from that peasant. There is some new danger," 
 
 " No, lady. Danger ceases to be danger when we 
 can avoid it. But I will tell you what I have learned 
 from the peasant. Master Adolphe has found new 
 guides, and has set off for the capital with all possible 
 speed. As he is in the employ of the prince, he will 
 command fresh horses where he can find them ; and, if 
 his own strength does not fail him, it is not impossible 
 that he may reach Vannes before morning." 
 
 " So soon as that ?" said Rosaline, in surprise. 
 
 " Ah, lady, when fresh horses are at hand to take "the 
 places of the jaded ones, long distances may be per- 
 formed in a few hours. That which we have been two 
 days in accomplishing might be done in eight hours, 
 with proper exchange of horses. So, if we go to 
 Vannes, we run the risk of being met on the road ; for 
 Adolphe can carry word to his master, and have a fresh 
 force sent against us." 
 
 " But, good Conrad," cried Rosaline, in a t(^e of 
 relief, " I would rather go to Rennes. I shall be safe 
 when once with my father's people." 
 
 " Then all is right, lady. We will start at once, and 
 make the best of our way. The distance to Rennes is 
 not more, than fifteen leagues ; and, if your strength^ 
 holds out, I think we may make the journey without 
 much delay," 
 
 " Pear not for me, sir. I can bear all that i!hy horse 
 can endure." 
 
 Conrad assisted the lady to her saddle ; and when he 
 
The Road to Rennes. 51 
 
 \liad mounted to his own seat, they put their horses to a 
 gentle gallop, and were soon speeding away through 
 the deep glade. They kept on thus till late in the 
 ^temoon, when they stopped by the bank of a small 
 stream to allow their beasts to rest. Conrad sat down 
 upon a fallen tree, and Rosaline, of her own accord, 
 took a seat by his side. She plainly showed that she 
 trusted him as she would have trusted a brother ; and 
 her gentle smile, when she spoke to him, was calm and 
 confiding. 
 
 " Can we reach Rennes before morning ?" she asked. 
 
 " Yes, lady. If you can keep your eyes open until 
 midnight, I think you may sleep in your father's castle 
 before the rising of another sun." 
 
 The promise gave the maiden new hope, and called 
 new light to her face. A little while she gazed down 
 upon the grass at her feet, and then raised her eyes to 
 her companion's face. 
 
 " Your name is Conrad," she said ; " and your home 
 is among the mountains." 
 
 "Yes, lady." ' 
 
 " Do your parents live there ?" 
 
 " My mother lives there ; and he who has been all 
 that a father could be, has his home close by us. The 
 story of my life is very simple." 
 
 Rosaline asked, by her look, that he would tell it. 
 '> " I never knew the face of my father.. He was an 
 old soldier, as my mother tells me, and- was killed in 
 battle, when I was an infant. My memory does not go. 
 back of the cot in the forest, where my childish steps 
 were guided by my mother's hand, and where my 
 youthful mind has been trained by the old hermit who 
 has been my teacher. Francisco is the hermit's name ; 
 and he was a soldier with my father. He has taught 
 me well, and I trust that I have not been an idle 
 
52 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 scholar. My lessons have been siicli as my good teacheil 
 could safely expound, and to him I owe more than I 
 can ever repay. He taught me Spanish; and my 
 knowledge of that language served me in learning the' 
 intentions of our enemies." 
 
 " But you have served in the army, sir ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You have had much experience with the sword !" . 
 
 " Only what 1 have had in exercise with old Francisco/ 
 Until this day I never drew my sword in mortal com- 
 bat." 
 
 " It is wonderful." 
 
 " Not very," said Conrad, with a smile. " Francisco 
 is a most accomplished swordsman ; and I have been a 
 most eager pupil. And then you must remejnber that 
 I had all the advantage of incitement. I had something 
 of Right upon my side — something of sacred, holy. duty. 
 You were to me the embodiment of a great principle ; 
 and I am proud that my first battle had so noble a 
 cause." 
 
 The lady Rosaline gazed up into Conrad's face, and 
 the language of her look was grateful and tender. A 
 close observer — oile skilled iil reading the "signs of the 
 human face — could easily have divined the feeling that 
 moved the soul of the maiden. The romance of the 
 youth's mountain-life — ^his orphanage — his strange tutor 
 — ^his free and simple manners-s-all had a charm for 
 her, a charm far deeper than could have been given by 
 a story of noble birth and grand family advantages. 
 With true womanly instinct, she prized the daring- 
 qualities of the hero because their first effort had been 
 made in her behalf; And, further than this, it might ;| 
 have been seen that the youth's calm, fresh beauty 
 made a deep impression upon her. She could not hide 
 the signs that told the story of opening love. Her 
 
The Road to Rennes. 5^^ 
 
 heart bounded and fluttered with its own impulses ; 
 and 5.11 she could do was to dwell in the light of those 
 tenderly-beaming eyes, and listen to the deep music of 
 the manly voice. 
 
 There is a language not written, and there are words 
 not spoken. There is a sense more subtle than sight ; 
 and a conviction more sure than speech. ^ There is a 
 language of S5mipathy ; a mystic bond between two 
 congenial souls ; an electric flow- of sense and percep- 
 tion from spirit to spirit ; whispering of love and faith, 
 wjiich the ears do not hear, and which the eyes do not 
 read. It is a sense which reveals to us that the spirit is 
 not always dependent upon the body for its sources of 
 information — a sense catching its perceptions from the 
 Spirit itself, and communicating with a kindred spirit 
 without the use of outward sign. 
 
 Strange feelings came upon Conrad's heart. 
 
 An echo jyas in the heart of Rosaline. 
 
 Their hands met, and the thrill was electric. From 
 soul to soul — from heart to heart. What was the lan- 
 guage ! not of earth, but of heaven. 
 
 Conrad was the strongest, and he was the first to 
 break from the ecstatic trance. 
 
 " Our horses have rested, enough," he said. " We had 
 better be on our way." 
 
 Rosaline stariied as though she had awakened from a 
 dream. She had meant to speak some words of grati- 
 tude in answer to her companion's remark touching the 
 ^battle ; but her tongue was slow, and the words were 
 not spoken. She allowed her companion to assist her 
 again to her saddle, and they were soon spee^ng along 
 through the dark wood. 
 
 . In half an hour they struck the right bank of a branch 
 of. the river lUe, and from this point the road to Rennes 
 was plain .and direct, following a smooth valley the 
 
54 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 whole distance. But as the road became better the 
 darkness o£ night came on, and the maiden rode closer 
 to her guide and held her rein more tightly. 
 
 " How far is it now to Rennes ?" she asked. 
 
 " Ncrt more than eight leagues. At an easy pace we 
 can accomplish the distance in four hours ; and that will 
 bring us to the end of our journey very shortly after 
 midnight. If your horse can stand the trial we shall be 
 all right." 
 
 " My horse has a light load," replied Rosaline ; " and 
 moreover, he is strong and enduring. But I am not in 
 such a hurry as to put the poor beast to any unwonted 
 exertion. I do not think there can be any danger on 
 the road." 
 
 " Not at present," said Conrad. He reflected a 
 moment, and then added : " As far as my own comfort 
 is concerned, I could ride by your side across the contin- 
 ent without tiring,; but it is not impossible.tjiat Master 
 Adolphe may find some help on the road and think of 
 turning his attention to you." 
 
 " But he has gone to Vannes." 
 
 " He started for Vannes ; but something may arise to 
 change his course. Have you any idea if the prince 
 intended to follow yoii directly to Saint Cyx 1" 
 
 " I think he did.", 
 
 " Then it is not impossible that he may be on the 
 road. It i§ not impossible that he may meet Adolphe. > 
 If such should be the case, they would very easily com- 
 prehend that you had gone to Rennes." 
 
 Rosaline trembled with apprehension. 
 
 " I did not mean to alarm you, dear lady ; for there 
 can be no occasion. I am well acquainted with the roads' 
 that wind about among these mountains, and in no way 
 can Adolphe overtake us ; unless, indeed, it should hap- 
 pen that he had turned from the course laid down by 
 
The Road to Rennes. 55 
 
 the peasant and followed us. I have thought that he 
 "might have done such a thing." 
 
 " But why should he do so ?" inquired Rosaline. 
 " He could not hope to overcome you." 
 
 " Certainly not ; but he may wish to meet the prince. 
 If the prince followed us by the same road we traveled 
 to Saint Cjrr, he would strike the road we are now in 
 not more than two leagues behind us. So, if Bertrand 
 had planned to follow you immediately, Adolphe, know- 
 ing the fact, may only have started off on the northern 
 road to blind me ; or, at least, to escape me ; and, hav- 
 ing seen us start on our return, the thing was easy for 
 him to follow, especially if he thought to meet his 
 master on the way. This, however, offers us no occa- 
 sion for fear ; only it hints to us that we had better 
 keep steadily on our way." 
 
 "You are right," answered the maiden. "We will 
 allow no grass to grow under our feet." 
 
 The road laid close upon the bank of the river, and 
 nearly all the time the bosom of the murmuring stream 
 was in sight, reflecting, in dim flashes, and quaiiit lines, 
 the bright stars that looked down from the cloudless 
 sky. Conrad was not really uneasy ; and yet, as the 
 new feeling grew stronger and stronger within him, 
 making the maiden more pi-ecious in his sight, his anxi- 
 ety for her safety began to take form and substance. 
 As he thought more upon the subject of the late conver- 
 sation, the idea that Adolphe might meet the prince in 
 the wood and thence turn his steps toward Rennes, 
 became strongly impressed upon him. He reasoned 
 thus to himself : 
 
 " The Prince would not be seen upon the road with 
 the lady of Rennes % nor would he allow her to remain 
 at the Castle of Saint Cyr without joining her. Very 
 likely, when he knew that his base emissaries had seized 
 
56 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 upon her, and were bearing her away to the Norman 
 frontier, he followed close upon their heels ; and if such-s 
 should happen to be the case, Adolphe may meet him 
 this very night. By my life the prince would not be 
 ' long in seeking so lovely a prize !" 
 
 These thoughts caused him to put his horse into a 
 faster pace, and for half an hour, over a level road, he rode 
 on at a gallop. By and by they reached a point where 
 the .path turned away from the stream, winding up oyer 
 a steep hill, and as the horses walked slowly up, side by 
 side, Rosaline called her companion's attention to the 
 scene. It was wild and romantic, and even Conrad for- 
 got, for the while, the thoughts that had been busy 
 within him. From the brow of the precipice they 
 gazed down into the gloomy depth, where, far below 
 them, made visible by the flashing reflection of the star- 
 beams, rolled the narrow river, like some golden-scaled 
 serpent, of huge proportions, winding its way through a 
 sea of ink. 
 
 " O," murmured the maiden, " I should like to live 
 among the mountains, as you do. I should like it better 
 than the turmoil of the life that those lead who dwell in 
 courts. Even in the darkest hours there is a calmneS^s 
 of grandeur that leads the soul up to Heaven, and fixes 
 the -mind upon holy thoughts. And then in the bright 
 sunlight what joy and rapture to be free and happy, 
 bound by no stern rules of fashion, and subject only to 
 the laws of God and nature. How I would sing with 
 the birds, and skip with the lainbs. Would you wish to 
 exchange your mountain home for a haunt in the city?". 
 
 " Not unless some duty called me," replied Conrad, 
 hardly knowing what he spoke. " It has been said," he 
 added, in a slightly tremulous tone, "that home is 
 where the heart is ; and where love aboundeth, there 
 may the true heart find content. I have been very 
 
The Road to *Rennes. 57 
 
 happy in my forest retreat during the years that have 
 passed ; but who shall say that that happiness can con- 
 tinue. The human heart is a wayward thing. My. 
 heart may fix its deepest, strongest love upon something 
 that does not belong to the forest ; and then my happi- 
 ness among the mountains would be gone, for hope 
 would be ever pointing in another way." 
 
 " A stout heart may win the object of its love," said 
 Rosaline, in a low tone. 
 
 " Not if that object be entirely beyond its reach," 
 rejumed the youth, regretfully. " The child may fall 
 in love with the evening star, but the bright object will 
 always have to be loved at a distance." 
 
 " But," pursued the maiden in a stronger tone, " the 
 man of sense and judgment will not fall in love with 
 that which is not possessed of a soul like his own. Love 
 isnot fixed to station or power. True love is like the 
 blessed sunlight. It warms alike the hearts of the high 
 and the low." 
 
 Conrad pressed his hand upon his bosom, and bowed 
 his head. O, if he could have spoken all he felt, he 
 could have told Rosaline of Rennes of one prize that 
 would have made his forest home a paradise forever. 
 But he dared not speak. And yet he dared to gaze 
 upon the lovely being by his side^ and feast his soul 
 upon the newly bom love. 
 
 At the foot of the hill they once more struck the river's 
 bank, and the horses were put again into a gallop. 
 
 " How far now to Rennes ?" asked Rosaline. 
 
 " A good six leagues. We have been only an hour on 
 the road since there were eight leagues before us." 
 
 " We shall reach the castle by midnight." 
 
 " If no accident happens." 
 
 And Rosaline repeated, as an echo : 
 
 " If no accident happens." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN ACCIDENT, AND ITS RESULT. 
 
 A low, boggy place, where a sluggish brook emptied 
 into the river, over which was a bridge of logs, old, rot- 
 ten, and moss-covered. The light jennet, with the lady , ' , 
 upon its back, trotted smoothly over ; but the heavier 
 beast of Conrad's stopped, with a loud snort, and tried 
 to avoid the direct way. 
 
 " Over — over, my pet," cried the youth, patting the 
 animal upon the neck. " It is but a bridge ; — the foot- 
 ing is good. Come — over we go." 
 
 The horse snorted, and snuffed, and still refused to 
 go. Conrad coaxed and patted ; but to no avail. 
 
 " This will never do," he said, clenching the rein with 
 a firm hand, and driving the spurs deep into the flanks 
 of the refractory beast. " You must go over. Now — 
 up ! up !" 
 
 The will of the master, thus made manifest, was all 
 powerful, and the horse started ■ forward. A few steps 
 were taken — a slip — a plunge — and down through the 
 rotten fabric went a fore-foot. Before Conrad could 
 dismount the horse had struggled to free himself, and 
 the result was, that the log gave way, pitching him for- 
 ward, and throwing his rider out from the saddle. Our 
 hero picked himself quickly up, without having received J 
 a bruise worth noticing, and hastened to the assistance 
 of his horse ; but he was too late. 
 
An Accident, and its Result. 59 
 
 "Is the animal badly hurt ?" asked Rosaline. 
 
 " I fear so, lady." 
 
 " Can I help you ? If I can, let me'tnow it, for I am 
 not afraid of work, even though there be danger in it." 
 
 " Remain in your saddle, dear lady. You cannot help 
 me here. Look the other way. Turn your eyes." 
 
 " What have you done, Conrad ?" 
 
 " I have done a work of mercy, lady Rosaline." 
 
 " But your sword is out. What is it ?" 
 
 " Be not alarmed. It is a sad event, but it cannot be 
 helped. O, a better blood' now warms my blade than 
 flowed from the veins of Goliath afid Baptiste. I found 
 bath the forward legs of the noble beast broken, and 
 with my own hand have I delivered him from his suf- 
 fering." 
 
 At first Rosaline thought more of the melancholy 
 accident to the horse than of the result to herself and 
 companion ; but when Conrad had joined her, and 
 started up on foot by the side of her jennet, she remem- 
 bered that the accident had a wider reach. 
 
 " Heavens !" she cried, " must you walk ?" 
 
 " For the present I must ; but I will walk fast. Our 
 journey will not be so quickly performed as we had 
 hoped ; but if you reach your home in safety, we will 
 not complain." 
 
 " But, good Conrad, can you not ride with me ? I 
 think my horse is " 
 
 " Hush, lady. Your horse has work enough already. 
 I am used to walking, and we will make better way than 
 you think for." 
 
 "You may find a horse on the road," suggested 
 
 Rosaline. 
 
 "Not until we reach Saint Mary; and that is four 
 leagues distant. But do not let the mishap trouble you. 
 
6o The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 I will walk by your side, and should any good fortune 
 turn up for us, we will be ready to seize it." 
 
 If this mode of proceeding bad its disadvantage, it 
 also had its advantage, for the travelers could now con- 
 verse without difficulty. * Rosaline had' studied much ; 
 and it so happened that the course which she had pur- 
 sued under the guidance of her various tutors, was, in 
 many points, like that which Conrad had pursued. Her 
 mind was clear and comprehensive ; her perceptions, 
 keen ; and her judgment good ; and as the conversation 
 turned upon themes familiar to both, the discussion 
 became animated atd interesting. They talked of art, 
 of war, of the rise and fall of nations, and of the lan- 
 guage of Spain and England and Germany • and it was 
 evident as they proceeded, that Rosaline was surprised 
 at the display of knowledge which marked her eoriipan- 
 ion's speech. She listened to him attentively, and was, 
 ere long, seeking information from, him upon topics 
 which her tutors had never explained. 
 
 Thus passed an hour, and Conrad was upon the point 
 of asking some question touching the affairs of the royal 
 court of Brittany, when his attention was arrested by a 
 sudden movement of Rosaline's horse. The animal 
 pricked up its ears, gave a quick, -startled snuff, and 
 seemed quite uneasy. 
 
 " He may see something in the wood," said Rosaline. 
 
 There were woods upon the left hand, while the river 
 ran upon the right. , „ 
 
 " He does not act as though he saw an3rthing unusual," 
 replied Conrad. • " He either hears or smells something. 
 Suppose we stop a moment and listen." 
 
 Rosaline drew in the rein, and Conrad bent his ear to 
 the gfround. 
 
 " I hear nothing," he said, after listening for a while. 
 
An Accident, and its Result. 6i 
 
 " It must have been some strange scent that touched the 
 animal's sense. We -s^dll move on again." 
 
 In a little while the wood was left behind, and, the 
 path lay along at the foot of a high bluff that flanked 
 the river on that side. The road was wide enough, and 
 plain, for the stream was now low, and the banks were 
 broad, and had a gradual, easy slope. 
 
 " We were speaking," said Conrad, " of the court of 
 Theobald. I have heard much of the old king, and I 
 think I like him. I think he is a good man." 
 
 " He is a good man," returned Rosaline, emphatically ; 
 " But he has been a most uhfortunate man ; and he is 
 now a most unhappy man. The prince, his son, shows 
 no love for him, and brings him often to grief." 
 
 " You speak of Bertrand ?" 
 - "Certainly. He is the only child the king ever had." 
 
 " He must be a hionster !" said Conrad, smiting his 
 hip with his clenched hand. " If he hath no love for 
 his kind old father, he is most unnatural ; and his treat- 
 ment of thee proves him to be basely wicked, Alas ! 
 what must be the fate of Brittany when he ascends the 
 throne, and takes the sceptre !" 
 
 " I dread to think," returned Rosaline, shuddering. 
 " His first acts may be of vengeance !" 
 
 " Not upon ' thee, sweet lady ! Not upon thee, if I 
 have an arm to give thee succor." 
 
 " Ah," murmured the maiden, " when that time comes 
 a home ia the deep forest — " 
 
 Her speech was cut short by the movement of her 
 horse, the old signs of uneasiness being repeated ; and 
 this time the snuffing was louder and more startling. 
 
 " I think my poor horse misses his mate," said Rosa- 
 line. 
 
 "It may be that; it may be something more," 
 returned Conrad. " Stop a moment," 
 
62 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Again the lady drew in her rein ; and once more the 
 youth bent his ear to the ground. He listened a few- 
 moments, and then started up. 
 
 "Weare— ■• 
 
 "What?" 
 
 Conrad had commenced to speak in a tone of excite- 
 ment, but he calmed himself, and added : 
 
 " I think some one is on the road behind us." 
 
 "What is it!" 
 
 " I hear the tramp of horses in full speed." 
 
 " Do you think we can be followed ?" 
 
 Conrad was looking ea,gerly' around, and seemed not 
 to notice the question. 
 
 " Do not fear to tell me the truth, sir. O, I had rather 
 know the worst at once, for then I may be preparing for 
 the result." 
 
 " I did not hesitate because I feared to answer you, 
 my lady ; but I was looking to see if there was any 
 place where we might turn away from the road." 
 
 " Then you think we may be pursued by our 
 enemies ?" 
 
 "The thing is possible, certainly. Master Adolphe 
 may have turned about, and met the princJe ; and if they 
 have come together, and have ccJncluded to follow us, 
 they would be very likely to hit up6n the road to 
 Rennes." 
 
 " Mercy !" gasped Rosaline. . 
 
 " Keep up your heart, lady. All is not yet lost. In 
 ths first place, it may not be the prince, at all. Let us 
 not fear tob much. If I could find a cover, I would 
 draw aside, and allow the approaching horsemen to 
 pass; but Isee no such opportunity here. Let us move 
 on." 
 
 As we have before said, the road at this place lay 
 between the river and a high bluff, and there was no 
 
An Accident, and its Result. 63 
 
 possible way of turning out unless they crossed the 
 stream. The face of the bluff was almost perpendicular, 
 as though the water had cut its way through a long, 
 high hill. Conrad turned to the river. It was dark and 
 deep, and its current was swift. 
 
 " Can we not cross ?" asked Rosaline. 
 
 " Not here," replied her companion. " The river has 
 grown deeper, and the force of the tide is too strong." 
 
 They hurried on, but the prospect of escape did not 
 brighten. The bluff upon the left seemed to grow 
 higher and more frowning, while tbe river upon the 
 right rushed on with increasing fury. The clatter of 
 the coming horses could now be plainly heard, and it 
 was evident that they were not a great way off. Conrad 
 gazed around once more ; but he could see no way of 
 avoiding the pursuers. Had he been alone, with a 
 powerful horse, he might have tried the stream ; but 
 he dared not venture the light-limbed jennet, with its 
 precious burden, in such an ordeal. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the pursuers, and finally the 
 youth laid his hand upon the lady's rein. 
 
 " "We had Jaetter stop here," he said. " We cannot 
 avoid them." 
 
 " And what will you do ?" asked Rosaline. 
 
 " I will remain between you and them, and ascertain 
 what they want. They may not be enemies." 
 
 " But— if it should be the prince." 
 
 " Then I will ask him what he seeks." 
 
 " O ! you will not oppose Prince Bertrand. It would 
 be madness ! It would be fatal ! You must not expose 
 yourself to certain death !" 
 
 "Dear lady, be under no apprehensions on my 
 account. Leave all to me, and trust me for the result. 
 If it be the prince, and he forces you from my protec- 
 
64 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 tion, you will at least believe that I did all I could for 
 you." 
 
 " Yes — ^yes ; but do not run into new danger. If it 
 be my fate — " 
 
 " Hush, lady. They are close at hand. Leave all to 
 me. Do you remain where you are, and hope for the 
 best." 
 
 Conrad strode back over the road, and at a short dis- 
 tance he met an advancing horseman. 
 
 " Hold !" he cried, in a tone that at once brought the 
 horse to a standstill, nearly throwing his rider over his 
 head. " Who comes here ?" 
 
 The man whom Conrad had hailed did not answer ; 
 but another quickly rode up, who proved to be master 
 Adolphe. 
 
 " By Saint Michael !" cried the latter, catching a 
 glimpse of the interloper by the dim starlight," it is 
 our mountaineer." 
 
 " What is all this ?" askfed a third horseman, riding 
 up, and stopping by the side of Adolphe. 
 
 " We are ordered to halt, my lord." 
 
 " Halt ! By whom ?" 
 
 " By no less a personage than our mountain guide." 
 
 " What ! Is it the Conrad you told me of ?" 
 
 "The same, my lord." 
 
 " Ha ! then the lady Rosaline cannot be far away." 
 
 " I think I see her now, your highness. If I mistake 
 not, she sits yonder, upon her horse." 
 
 " Then, by the gods ! she is safe ! What, ho, meddler ! 
 Who are you ?" 
 
 Conrad's sight was keen, and his eyes had become so 
 used to the gloom that he could see 'quite distinctly. • 
 He could see plainly enough to tell that there were 
 four men before him, all well mounted and well armed. 
 One of them was, he felt sure, Prince Bertrand ; one 
 
Alt Accident, and its Result. 65 
 
 was his old traveling companion, Adolphe ; and the 
 others were evidently servants, who had accompanied 
 the prince from Vannes. He could see that the prince 
 was tall and broad-shouldered, though not of good 
 shape. His neck was too short, and his shoulders too 
 round ; and our hero had little difficulty in imagining, 
 from his ill-formed outline, that his face was harsh and 
 'unpleasant. 
 
 ~" Why don't you speak ? Who are you ?" 
 
 " I am an honest traveler on honest business," replied 
 Conrad. " Who are you ?" 
 
 "B'y the Shades of Pluto ! I'll let you know who I am 
 if you don't quickly take yourself out of my way !" 
 
 " Easy, sir. I have the road, and you will answer me 
 before you pass." 
 
 "What, ho! Here— Adolphe— Poins— Tithon. Sweep 
 
 that dog from my patb !" 
 
 The three men thus addressed drew their swords and 
 pressed their horses forward. 
 
 " Hold !" exclaimed Conrad, in a tone of such authority 
 that the horses stopped. " Do not rush into needless 
 trouble. If you wish to pass quietly on your way, I 
 shall not interfere." 
 
 " Answer me," cried the prince, raising himself in his 
 stirrups. " Is not that lady Rosaline yonder ?" 
 
 " That lady, sir, is under my protection." 
 
 " It is the lady," spoke master Adolphe. 
 
 " Then seize upon her, and let her protection devolve 
 
 upon me." 
 
 Adolphe again started forward ; but Conrad caught 
 ■ his rein and stopped his horse. The man-at-arms, with 
 ' an oath, raised his sword, intending, no doubt, to cleave 
 the skull of the venturesome mountaineer. 
 
 Conrad thought very quickly. Instinctive reason told 
 him that the trial had come, and that if he would defend 
 
66 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 the maiden he must overcome obstacles as they arose. 
 His .first decisive movement was a rapid arid eifective 
 one. He held the horse by the left hand, standing by 
 the animal's near fore foot, his right hand grasping the 
 hilt of his drawn sword. When he saw Adolphe raise 
 his weapon to strike, he simply drew back his right arm, 
 and in an instant more he had driven his keen blade 
 upward through the fellow's bosom. 
 
 " Down with him !" cried Bertrand. " Strike him 
 down !" 
 
 "Holy Mother ! I am a dead man !" gasped the 
 unf ortunate" man-at-arms. 
 
 Poins and Pithon hurried forward just in season to see 
 Adolphe tumble from his horse. Conrad saw them 
 coming, and with a- quick movement he gave the fore- 
 most horse a prick that made him rear upright into the 
 air, throwing his rider backward upon the ground. The 
 second horseman was crowding up, and before he' could 
 really determine what had happened, his horse had 
 leaped upon one side, away from the approach of the 
 mountaineer, bringing both his iron-clad forward feet 
 down upon the prostrate form of the unhorsed rider. 
 Thus was a second man disabled without the need of a 
 sword-thrust. 
 
 " Poins ! Poins !" shouted the prince. 
 
 " 'Fore God !" exclaimed the other. " Poins is under 
 my horse's feet ! What ho ! Hallo I Poins— are you 
 hurt ?" 
 
 But Poins did not answer ; and the other, who must 
 have been Tithon, sprang from his saddle, and bent 
 over the form of his prostrate companion. 
 
 " Poins — Poins — are you badly hurt ?" 
 
 The man groaned, but made no other answer. 
 
 " Mercy ! The blood is running from his head ; and 
 I fear his skull is broken !" 
 
An Accident, and its Result. 67 
 
 "Never mind," said tlie prince, leaping from his 
 saddle as he spoke ; " let him be, and come with me." 
 
 Bertrand strode forward until he came close upon our 
 hero, when he stopped. 
 
 " How now, thou snarling, snapping dog ! Do you 
 know whom you have met ?" 
 
 " I should judge that I had met enemies," replied the 
 youth, without show of trepidation. 
 
 The prince gnashed his teeth, and lifted the point of 
 his sword ; but he restrained himself a little longer, 
 
 " JCnow, then," he hoarsely cried, " that I am 
 Bertrand, Prince of Brittany !" 
 
 Conrad had been reared amid mountain solitudes; 
 and his adorations had only been given to the God of 
 Heaven. The sound of earthly title did not strike upon 
 his ear with much of awe-inspiring power ; and the 
 name which had just been so imposingly pronounced 
 did not startle him at all. The name of Bertrand, 
 Prince of Brittany, only called to his mind a cruel, 
 unnatural child, and a heartless, wicked debauchee. 
 He simply grasped his sword more firmly, and waited 
 to hear what further the prince would say, but before 
 Bertrand again spoke, his ear caught the sound of a low, 
 quivering voice behind him ; and upon turning hig 
 head, he beheld Rosaline approaching him on foot. 
 
 " O ! Conrad — expose yourself no more. My fate is 
 sealed. Let me not drag you down with me !" 
 
 The youth took one step back, and waved his hand 
 towards the trembling maiden. 
 
 • "One moment, Rosaline— lady— only one moment. 
 Back to your horse. I must speak with this nian." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE CASTLE OF RENNES. 
 
 The prince seemed, for the moment, to "be utterly 
 confounded by the 'Coolness of the man before him. He 
 had looked to see the simple mountaineer shrink back 
 in confusion at the sound of his name ; but, for once in 
 his life, he was destined to find that name wholly with- 
 out power. He saw the lady Rosaline approach ; he 
 heard the mountaineer speak to her ; and he saw her 
 withdraw again. Then he stamped his foot with rage, 
 and called out : i 
 
 " Do you dare, dog, to raise your hand against your 
 prince ?" 
 
 " At this hour, in this place, and under such circum- 
 stances, I know no prince," replied Conraid. " Yet, sir, 
 if you bear the name of prince — if you are the son of 
 our king — I would spare you. You may turn about, 
 and go in peace." 
 
 " 'Sdeath ! thy blood must run rank with insanity- I 
 tell thee, I am the prince." 
 
 " Do you seek that lady ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " For what ?" 
 
 " To you it matters not why I seek her." 
 
 " I know why you seek her. You would most cruelly 
 wrong her. You say you are the prince. Let me teU, 
 
The Castle of Rennes. 69 
 
 you what I find you : I find you a base, bad man, seek- 
 ing the destruction of the peace and joy of a weak 
 woman. That woman has sought my protection, and 
 she shall have it." . 
 
 " Do you mean that you will oppose me ?" 
 
 « Aye." 
 
 " That you will dare to raise your hand against the 
 prince ?" 
 
 " To me you are not the prince. A true prince 
 would be ashamed of such service as you are now 
 engaged in." 
 
 " By the gods ! I am the prince ; and I must have 
 yonder lady !" 
 
 " Were you ten thousand times a prince, you should 
 not touch her in the presence of my living body !" 
 
 " Beware !" 
 
 " Hold, sir ! I mean what I say," cried Conrad, as 
 Bertrand made an aggressive movement. " If you force 
 me to it, I shall raise my arm against you. I swear it 
 by the God that made me !" 
 
 The bold prince shrank from before the' fire of those 
 eyes, and turned to his attendant. 
 
 '" Tithon !" 
 
 The man had been an astonished witness of the scene, 
 and as his master thus spoke, he stepped forward, with 
 his drawn sword in his hand. 
 
 « Tithon, cut down this dog from my path !" ' ^ 
 
 The soldier advanced, and measured the mountaineer 
 with his eye, at the same time remarking, in a tone 
 which lacked something of assurance : 
 
 " You give me a tough job, my master." 
 
 "Then the more glory to you if you accomplish it." 
 
 Conrad's quick eye detected the meaning of the 
 prince. He thought to engage him with his man-at- 
 srms, and in the meantime slip by to the lad^. But our 
 
70 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 hero had not the least idea of p,llo-wing such a thing to 
 be done. He moved back a pace, and caught the 
 sword of the advancing soldier by a side "parry — ^then 
 he made one of his most effective assaults, before which 
 his adversary was so completely at fault that he went 
 down almost without an effort at defence— went down 
 beyond the power of further help to his august master. 
 
 Bertrand had taken a step towards the lady ; but Con- 
 rad was quickly before him. 
 
 " No more, sir !" our hero cried. " You and I are 
 now alone in this lady's presence ; and, if it please you, 
 she shall decide whither she will go." 
 
 " No, by heaven !" returned the prince, furiously. 
 *' I am not in the habit of being thus driven. Stand 
 aside!" 
 • " Beware, Bertrand ! Your title shall not overcome 
 me." 
 
 " But my sword shall !" retorted the angry man. And 
 as he spoke, he made a lunge at the mountaineer. 
 
 Conrad saw very quickly that he had nothing to fear 
 from this assault. He parried two thrusts in succession, 
 and then he caught the sword of his opponent by a slid- 
 ing stroke along the blade, fastening his point beneath 
 the other's guard. The question was now simply 
 strength of wrist. The prince felt his danger, and bent 
 his elbow down to hold his weapon ; but he might as 
 well have bent against a rock. As though making the 
 movement for pastime, Conrad wrenched the opposing 
 sword from its owner's grasp, flinging it high into the 
 air ; and in a few moments more a dull plash in the river 
 told that the prince's blade was gone forever. 
 
 With a fierce path, Bertrand sprang for the sword 
 which Tithon had dropped ; but he was not allowed to 
 reach it ; for Conr4d, seeing and comprehending the 
 mpyementj determined to put an end to the scene as ; 
 
The Castle of Rennes. 71 
 
 qiaickly as possible. He leaped forward and grasped 
 the prince by the shoulder, and drew him back upon the 
 greensward. 
 
 " Bertrand, you have tried my patience to its utmost, 
 and I will grant thee no more liberty to annoy me." 
 
 " Ha ! would you kill me ?" 
 
 " No. If I had meant to do that I should have run 
 my sword through your body when I had you before at 
 my mercy. I simply intend to bind you, and leave you 
 here to keep company with your fallen companions." 
 
 Bertrand was young and powerful ; but he had hot the 
 steel-Uke muscle of the mountaineer. He sought to 
 free himself from the grasp that was upon him ; but he 
 was as a child in the hands of its master. Conrad bent 
 him down, and having torn the rich sash from his loins, 
 with it he bound its owner's arms behind his back. 
 Then he went to where Tithon had fallen, and took off 
 the soldier's belt. When he returned, the prince was 
 almost upon his knees ; but the work was easily 
 finished ; and in the end his royal highness lay upon 
 the ground, bound hand and foot. 
 
 When this had been accomplished, the youth went to 
 where the fellow lay who had been called Poins, and 
 who had been crushed beneath the feet of Tithon's 
 horse. He was yet insensible ; and though the flesh 
 had been terribly cut upon the side of the head, the 
 bone did not appear to be broken. 
 
 "I think," said Conrad, approaching the prince, 
 " that your man Poins will ere long recover his senses ; 
 and when he does he may come and set you free." 
 
 «< Go ^go," gasped Bertrand. " Don't stop to torture 
 
 me with your voice. We shall meet again— be sure of 
 that. O ! when we do meet !" 
 
 " I think I can understand your feelings, sir," returned 
 our hero, in a tone of provoking moderation ; " but 
 
72 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 I cannot believe that you will lay up any ill feeling 
 against me. You will have time for reflection after I have 
 left you, and you will not fail to see that you have been 
 entirely in the wrong. And, furthermore, I am sure that 
 you will acknowledge to yourself that I have simply 
 done my ' duty. I pray you, sir, think of these things 
 calmly." 
 
 Bertrand groaned, and gnashed his teeth in rage, 
 but made no reply in words ; and shortly afterwards 
 Conrad rejoined the lady. 
 
 " Now, my dear lady, I will once more help you to 
 your saddle ; and then I will select me a horse, and bear 
 you company to Rennes." 
 
 "O, Conrad, what, have you done!" The tone was 
 eager, and the small white hands were clasped in agony. 
 
 " Alas, lady," cried the youth, for the moment mistak- 
 ing her meaning, " have I done wrong ? Would you 
 have preferred that the prince ' 
 
 " No, no, no," interrupted Rosalin. * 1 did not mean 
 that. But what can now save you ? You have made an 
 enemy who will, hunt you till he has destroyed you !" 
 
 " Then you would rather go with me to your home, 
 than to have me leave you with the prince ?" 
 
 " Yes — certainly. But " 
 
 " There are no buts, lady. I promised that I would 
 protect you, and I have thus far kept my word. If the 
 prince shall seek my life for what I have done, I shall 
 defend myself to the utmost. I this night found him 
 acting the part of a villain, and I have treated him 
 accordingly. If he shall, in the time to come, seek to 
 act the part of an assassin, I shall not hesitate to meet 
 him as such ; and may the result be between me and 
 my God." 
 
 "You are a good man ! — a noble man !" exclaimed the 
 
The Castle of Rennes. j^) 
 
 maiden, in the fulness of her lieaxt ; " and may Heaven 
 reward and protect you !" 
 
 •" I thank thee, lady, for those words. They are a 
 \ sufficient reward for all I have done. And now let us 
 be on our way." 
 
 Conrad helped her to her seat, and then went and 
 ■ secured the horse which Tithon had ridden ; and when 
 he had mounted, and tried the rein to assure himself 
 that the beast was all right, he put himself by the side 
 of his charge, and once more they started towards 
 Renness 
 
 " Do you think," asked Conrad, as the horses came to 
 a walk at the foot of a gentle hill, " that the prince will 
 follow you to your father's castle ?" 
 
 " No," replied RosaKne. " He would not dare to do 
 that. Such a movement would be an open act of hostil- 
 ity, and my father's retainers would not hesitate to 
 resent it. Bertrand would not dare to bring on a direct 
 rupture between himself and the powerful duke." 
 
 " But," said Conrad, " how could he have hoped to 
 take you away as he did without bringing on a rupture 
 between himself and your father ?" » 
 
 " Perhaps he thought, when he had me in that dismal 
 old ruin, that I would consent to be his wife. And, if 
 such a result had failed, he probably meant to crush me 
 to ruin, trusting that his instrumentality in my disap- 
 pearance would not be discovered. I think it is plain 
 enough. If they had succeeded in killing you, as was 
 their plan, only the prince and his- sworn tools would 
 have known my whereabouts ; and my father might not 
 have been able to trace my steps, nor to have fastened 
 any crime upon the prince. It was the plot of a bold, 
 bad man, who sets no bounds to his base passions, and 
 who stops at nothing which can pander to them." 
 
 " Heaven bless the hour that led them to my mother's 
 
74 The Fortunes of Conrad. '■•} 
 
 cot for a guide !" ejaculated the youth, as he tightened 
 his rein at the top of the hill. 
 
 Rosaline murmured a fervent amen, and added some 
 further words, in a low, tremulous tone, which were 
 swallowed up in the clatter of the horse's hoofs as they 
 started once more into a gallop. 
 
 The hamlet of Saint Mary was passed at about three 
 o'clock, and just as the first streaks of dawn were light- 
 ing the eastern horizon, they drew up before the stout 
 castle of Rennes. The drawbridge was down, but the 
 gates were closed, and the porter's lodge was dark- 
 Conrad saw a horn hanging upon one of the posts, and 
 taking it from its peg, he blew upon if a long, loud 
 blast. In a little while a wicket was opened, and a man 
 looked forth. 
 
 " Who seeks .admittance to the castle at this hour ?" 
 was the demand. 
 
 " The lady Rosaline," replied our Jieroine, urging her 
 horse forward over the bridge. 
 
 In a moment more the sound of a bell broke upon the 
 air, and presently afterwards the gates were thrown 
 open and the riders entered. 
 
 The castle of Rennes was a grand old structure, com- 
 menced by a powerful baron- of Brittany in the sixth 
 century, 'and finally completed by an ancestor of the 
 present duke. It was strong enough to withstand the 
 assault of a large army, and its garners could hold 
 provisions enough, to sustain its garrison a year.- Its 
 walls and towers were of gray stone, and from its high- 
 est turret the watchman had a view of all thesurround- ' 
 ing country. 
 
 As Conrad and his companion entered the spacious 
 court, they were met by half a dozen men at-arms, who 
 had been called up by the striking of the bell. They 
 recognized their young mistress, and two of them held 
 
The Castle of Rennes. 75 
 
 her horse while two more approached to assist her from 
 her saddle. 
 
 " Is your father with you, or near at hand ?" asked 
 one who seemed to have authority. 
 
 " No, good captain. I left him at Vannqs. This gen- 
 tleman has been my companion and protector on the 
 road, and I recommend him to your most kind regards. 
 His name is Conrad. And this," the maiden added, 
 turning to our hero, " is "Nicolas, the captain of our men- 
 at-arms." 
 
 Conrad descended from his saddle, and extended his 
 hand to the captain, who took it with a cordial grasp. 
 There is a language in the grasping of hands ; and both 
 the youth and the sturdy captain felt the quiver of 
 respect and esteem coursing along the nerves, from the 
 fingers to the brain, and thence to the heart. Nicolas 
 was a stout, frank-faced man of forty ; and though, by 
 the opening daylight, he could see that the new-comer 
 was quite young, yet he saw- something more in that 
 bold, manly face, which engaged his admiration. 
 
 " You are welcome, sir, to the castle, so far as I have 
 the right to speak," he said'; "and be sure that the 
 recommendation of our mistress will open all hearts to 
 you." 
 
 Conrad expressed his thanks, and was upon the point 
 of turning to his horse when Rosaline addressed him : 
 
 " Good sir, let my people look to your horse, while 
 you come with me to my father's dwelling. I think 
 we both need rest." 
 
 The captain led the way across the court to the house 
 of the lord, while the men-at-arms led away the horses. 
 When they reached the hall they found others of the 
 servants up, who wondered much upon beholding their 
 young mistress arrive at such an hour, and with only a 
 stranger for her guard and companion. 
 
76 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 "Where is the duke?" asked old Rachel, the house- 
 keeper. 
 
 " I left him at Vannes." 
 
 " But why did ;^ou come off alone, and in such a 
 strange manner ?" - 
 
 " Good Rachel, I am tired and hungry ; and this 
 gentleman is the same. Let us have something to . eat 
 now, and at some other time you may ask me what you 
 please." 
 
 The maiden spoke smilingly, and the old housekeeper 
 took no offence, but hurried away to prepare food for , 
 the hungry ones. 
 
 " You will rest awhile beneath our roof," said Rosalin,e, 
 turning to her companion. 
 
 "Yes, lady," he replied. "I will take such rest as 
 will befit me for my return to my home." 
 
 " You must wait until my father comes." 
 
 " Do not ask me to stay beyond the hour of noon. I 
 would like to see your father ; but I must return to my 
 mother. She will be uneasy." 
 
 " As you will, kind sir. Only, if you hurry away thus, 
 I shall claim a promise that you will at some time come 
 again." 
 
 " If I make no promise, I shall break none," said Con- 
 rad, with a smile ; " so, to be on the sure side of truth, 
 we had better leave the affairs of the future to them- 
 selves. Still," — and his voice suddenly quivered and 
 grew softer as he continued — " I should liker to come 
 again. , I should feel sad if I thought I were never more 
 to look upon the sweet face of the lady of Rennes." 
 
 Rosaline gazed down upon the pavement for a moment, 
 while the rich color of warming blood mounted to her 
 cheeks and temples. Then she raised her eyes, and put 
 forth both her hands ; and, whilg a warm smile lighted 
 up her beautiful face, she said : 
 
Casimir. yj 
 
 " It must not be so. "We have not thus been brought 
 together, to be sundered f orevermore. I claim it from, 
 you as a duty that we meet again." 
 
 Conrad could not resist the impulse. He held both 
 the lady's hands, and one of them he raised to his lips, 
 saying, as he imprinted a kiss upon it : 
 
 " Your command is to me a law. If I live I will visit 
 this castle again." 
 
 Rosaline thanked him with a grateful look, and shortly 
 afterwards led the way to a small drawing-room near 
 the dining-hall, where refreshments had been served. . 
 
 Half an hour afterwards Conrad had been conducted 
 to a spacious chamber, where, without much hesitation, 
 he threw his weary limbs upon the bed that had been 
 pre^pared for him. Sleep came quickly to his relief ; 
 and though the scenes of the night had been gloomy 
 and sad enough, yet his dreams were pleasant, and full 
 of promise. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CASIMIR. 
 
 The sun had been some two hours up from its bed 
 when a party of four horsemen came dashing up to the 
 castle gates from the southward. They were covered 
 with dust, and the horses were well nigh worn down. 
 He who rode in advance was a man of five-and-forty ; 
 hale and noble looking ; of medium height, and well- 
 knit frame ; and whose garb bespoke him to be one in 
 atithority and high in rank. In fact, he was Casimir, 
 Duke of Rennes, a nobleman beloved by his friends, 
 and honored and feared by his enemies. At the present 
 
78 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 time his brow was dark, and the expression of his 
 face denoted the deepest anxiety. As he entered the 
 court he sprang from his saddle, and addressed the first 
 person who presented himself, which happened to be 
 the old porter. 
 
 " Good Lancelot, I have ridden fast and far. Have 
 you heard anything from the lady Rosaline ?" 
 
 " Why, bless you, my master, are you anxious on her 
 account i" 
 
 "Aye—that I am. Has anything been heard. of 
 her ?" 
 
 " The lady Rosaline is safe and sound, my lord." 
 
 " Safe, say you?" cried the duke, starting forward, 
 and grasping the old man by the arm. " Is my 
 daughter in the castle ?" 
 
 " She is, my lord ; and looking as well as I ever saw 
 her, save the shade of fatigue that marked her pretty 
 face." 
 
 Casimir pressed his hand upon his brow, and drew a 
 long breath, seeming thus to gain much relief. 
 
 " Thank God, my child is safe !" 
 
 " How, my lord — ^has there been any danger ?" 
 
 " There has been much alarm-, good Lancelot. But 
 tell me — when did she arrive ?" 
 
 " This morning, just, as the day was breaking." 
 
 " Did she come alone ?" 
 
 "No. She was accompanied by a young man, named 
 Conrad. They two came alone." 
 
 " Who was this man ?" 
 
 " I don't know, my lord. I only know that he is the 
 fairest youth that my eyes ever rested upon ; and, if I 
 have not lost my faculty of reading men's faces, he is 
 as brave and true as he is handsome." 
 
 At this juncture the captain of the men-at-arms came 
 lip to welcome his lord, and of him the duke sought 
 
Casimir. 79 
 
 lurtner information concerning the coming of Ws 
 daughter; but Nicolas cotild tell no more than the 
 old porter had told. He only knew that Rosaline and 
 her companion had arrived just as the day was break- 
 ing ; and that they had ridden all night ; and that they 
 were now resting within the domicile of the castle. 
 
 "But this youth," said the duke — "did you learn 
 nothing of him ?" 
 
 " Nothing, my lord. His face betokeneth nobility ; 
 but his garb was humble ; and I noticed stains of blood 
 upon his stockings, and upon the skirts of his doublet. 
 He bore a brave, manly look, and the grasp* of his hand 
 was warm and vigorous, as though not ashamed of any- 
 iMng it had done." 
 
 "Then it could not have been the prince," said 
 Casimir, in a tone of relief. 
 
 " What prince ?" 
 
 " I know of but one who bears that title in. Brittany." 
 
 " If you speak of the prince Bertrand, my lord, I 
 
 should say that this youth was about as unlike the 
 
 prince as it is possible for man to be. This Conrad is 
 
 handsome and brave ; and one loves him from 
 
 ' instinct." 
 
 " You do not flatter the prince, captain." 
 
 " Pardon me, my lord. I meant no disrespect to his 
 royal highness." * 
 
 " You are pardoned," said the duke, with a smile. 
 But in a moment more the smile had faded away, and a 
 cloud came in its place. 
 
 " This is most wonderful," he muttered to himself, as 
 he moved towards the domicile. " Who can this youth 
 be ? Surely there is none in Vannes can answer the 
 description. But I shall not be long in ignorance ; and, 
 in the meantime, let me thajik God that my sweet child 
 is safe." 
 
8o The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 He entered the dwelling of the castle, and in the hall 
 was met by Rachel, who informed him that Rosaline 
 still slept. Anxious as he was to see her, he would not 
 have her disturbed then. He called for refreshment, 
 and when he had eaten he retired to his own chamber, 
 where he threw himself into an easy chair, and soon fell 
 asleep. He was weary, for he, too, had ridden all 
 night. 
 
 Rosaline, almost entirely recovered from her fatigme, 
 awoke towards noon ; and having prepared a simple 
 toilette, she descended to the hall, where she met a ser- 
 vant who informed her of her father's arrival. She had 
 just turned to seek him, when he descended the broad 
 stairs. She flew to his arms with a quick cry of joy, ' 
 and if the duke had held any doubts or' suspicions, they^ 
 were all banished before the light of that joyful smile. 
 
 "My blessed child. Heaven be praised for this !" he 
 ejaculated, winding his arms about her, and pressing 
 her to his bosom. Then he held her off and gazed 
 -eagerly into her face. 
 
 " You are safe and well, my precious one. You are 
 not harmed ?" 
 
 " No, my father — O, no. Though harm hath gathered 
 about me like deepest night, yet am I once more with 
 thee as safe as when you saw me last." 
 
 Several of the servants had entered the hall, and the 
 duke, not caring to question his daughter in their hear- 
 ing, took her by the hand, and led her away to his own 
 private apartment. 
 
 " Now, Rosaline," he said, when he had closed the 
 door and taken a seat, " you must relieve my anxious 
 thoughts. O, how I have suffered ! I have searched for 
 you throughout Vannes ; and from Vannes to this place, 
 a distance of thirty leagues, I have ridden in eight hours. 
 But let me hear what has happened." 
 
Casimir. 8i 
 
 " Have yoTi not suspected who caused my disappear- 
 ance from Vannes ?" asked Rosaline. 
 
 " Yes," replied the duke. " At first I suspected princ^ 
 Bertrand." 
 
 " And have you had occasion to rid yourself of that 
 suspicion ?" 
 
 " Not entirely , though I must admit that he has the 
 benefit 0% much doubt. Early on the morning after 
 your disappearance I sought the prince, believing that 
 he knew something of what had happened. He denied 
 all knowledge, seeming to be utterly astonished ; and 
 declared that he would take two of his attendants, and 
 set ofiE at once after you, which he did." 
 
 "O !" groaned Rosaline, "the prince is a villain of 
 the blackest dye. But listen, and I will tell you all." 
 
 And then the maiden commenced, and told to her 
 father the whole of her adventure, from the time of her 
 seizure in the garden by the prince's servants, to her 
 arrival at the castle. It was a long story, for she 
 omitted nothing, even repeating all the conversation of 
 the villains which she had overheard, and detailing, with 
 wonderful minuteness, the speech and the movements 
 of her deliverer. When she spoke, of the prince she 
 shuddered, and her lips turned pale ; but when Conrad 
 was her theme the rich color mounted to her face, and 
 her eyes grew soft and moist with grateful warmth. 
 
 " My child," said Casimir, after the story was con- 
 cluded, "do you tell me that this youth performed these 
 prodigies with his own arm ?" 
 
 " Yes, my father, even as I havd related it." 
 
 " This is a most marvelous story,", said the duke, 
 after a considerable pause. " I am not astonished at 
 the wickedness of the prince ; but I wonder much at 
 his bold audacity. And yet I can see how, in the blind- 
 
82 The Fortunes of Conrad. / 
 
 -• 7 
 
 ness of his passion, he hoped to escape immediate detec- 
 tion." 
 
 And then Casimir questioned his child anew, upon 
 each important particular, until he had heard the whole 
 story over again. 
 
 " One thing is evident," he said, after he had heard 
 for the second time the story 'of Conrad's feats : " This 
 youth has deceived you." 
 
 " Deceived me ?" repeated Rosaline, with an uneasy 
 gesture. " O, no, no — you do not know him. There is 
 no deception in his nature. He is the very soul of 
 truth and honor. You will say so when you see him." 
 
 " You speak from a sense of gratitude, my child ; but 
 I do not blame you. If, however, you will look at the 
 matter with unprejudiced judgment, you will see that 
 he cannot have told you the truth. According to his 
 account, he is a simple mountaineer, who had never seen 
 service -before ; and he would have you believe that his 
 conflict with Baptiste was the first mortal combat in 
 which he was ever engaged. Now just look at it. 
 Baptiste was noted as one of the best swordsmen in 
 Brittany. He had slain at least a dozen men in duels ; 
 while the giant, Goljath, was held to be invincible. And 
 then I know that prince Bertrand is a most accomplished 
 cavalier. In fact, he has been pronounced a per- 
 fect master of the sword. And yet you tell me that 
 this Conrad slew Baptiste and Goliath in fair and open 
 combat, and that he held the prince as he would have 
 held a child." 
 
 "Yes, my father." ' 
 
 " Then it is apparent enough that the youth is some 
 bold adventurer, who has made war his profession — 
 some follower of needy princes, ready to sell his services 
 to the highest bidder." 
 
 A flush of indignation mantled the cheeks and the 
 
Casimir. 83 
 
 brow of the maiden ; but before she could make any 
 response, some one knocked upon the door, 
 
 A servant entered, and announced that the gentle- 
 man who had come with the lady Rosaline was about 
 to depart. 
 
 " Not until I have seen him," cried the duke, starting 
 to his feet. " Let him be who or what he may, I owe 
 him a heavy debt. Bring him to me. Tell him that T 
 wish to speak with him." 
 
 The servant withdrew, and Casimir then turned to his 
 dau^ter. 
 
 " You may leave me, Rosaline ; but fear not that I 
 shall demean myself unseemly before your protector. 
 I am grateful to him, as he shall see." 
 
 The maiden arose and left the apartment without 
 speaking ; and ere long afterwards Conrad was ushered 
 into the duke's presence. 
 
 Casimir arose, and took a step forward, and there 
 stopped. He gazed into the face of the young man 
 before him, while Conrad, with equal interest, gazed 
 upon him. The nobleman felt his doubts melting away 
 beneath the light of that frank, open face ; and his sus- 
 picions began to take wings before that upright, manly 
 form. ' 
 
 " Gentle sir," he finally said, extending his hand, " you 
 surely did not intend to leave the castle without seeing 
 the father of the lady to whom you had rendered so 
 much service." 
 
 " I knew not, my lord, that you were astir," replied 
 Conrad, taking the hand which had been extended to 
 him. " I heard that you had returned ; and I supposed 
 that you were still resting." 
 
 " But you could have called for me." 
 
 " Ah," said the youth, with a light smile, and with a 
 
84 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 gentle shake of the head, " that would have looked as 
 though I held you in my debt." 
 
 " And am I not in your debt ?" 
 
 " Not at all, my lord." 
 
 " Not for the life and honor of my child ?" 
 
 " No ; for I am already more than repaid. I would 
 not sell the knowledge of the deed I have done for a 
 mountain of gold." 
 
 " And did you not dare to receive my gratitude ?" 
 
 "Why should I seek that which I knew I already 
 possessed. When I had reached my mountaiii home 
 should I not have held the happy corivictipn that the 
 Duke of Rennes was grateful even to blessing me in 
 his prayers ?" 
 
 "Aye, surely," replied Casimir, shaking the youth's 
 hand warmly. " You are right in that, at least. And 
 now that you are here, I trust that you will grant me a 
 few moments of your time." 
 
 " I am entirely at your service, sir," said Conrad, takr 
 ing the seat which his liost proffered. " I have a 
 mother, and a kind old tutor, waiting for me among the 
 mountains ; and my only need of haste is, to relieve 
 their anxiety." 
 
 " You made them no promises when you would 
 return ?" 
 
 « No." 
 
 " Then they will not be over-anxious. My daughter 
 has told me the story of her adventures ; but there are 
 some things I would like to hear from your own lips." 
 
 The youth promised that he would answer to the best 
 of his ability ; and thef eupon his host drew from him 
 almost a repetition of the story which Rosaline had 
 told. When Conrad spoke of his own deeds he was 
 modest and calm, seeking to glide over them with as 
 little show of pride as possible. He could not hide all 
 
Casimir. 85 
 
 his pride, however ; though what did appear was of the 
 noblest kind. He explained the motives which had 
 actuated him in his disposition of the villains ; not only 
 had he the desire of saving the lady from their foul 
 grasp, but they had made him an unconscious party to 
 the crime ; and hence he had felt that the vindication 
 of his own honor and integrity demanded that he 
 should undo, if possible, the base work which had been 
 furthered under his guidance. 
 
 " You say your home is in the mountains, with your 
 mother and your old tutor ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " And have you never served under arms ?" 
 
 " Never, sir. In that respect you have already heard 
 the simple truth." 
 
 " Has your home always been in the mountain cot ?" 
 
 " Ever since I can remember." 
 
 The duke had no more thought of doubting Conrad's 
 word. As he gazed in'to the handsomer-beaming face, 
 and listened to the bold, musical tones of the unhesitat- 
 ing voice, he felt that deceit could have no home there. 
 In short, his confidence in the youth's truth and honor 
 was firm and abiding. And, more than that, he felt a 
 deep respect for the noble character which had been 
 -thus presented to him. 
 
 And there was something more. Since Conrad had 
 begfun to speak, the duke had watched him narrowly, 
 reading every line of his countenance, and noting its 
 minutest changes. He was sure he saw familiar shadows 
 in /that face. 
 
 " Were you bom amid the mountains ?" asked Casimir, 
 
 after a pause. 
 
 " I think not, sir ; though I must have been a mere 
 infant when my mother took me there." 
 
 " What is your mother's name ?" 
 
86 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Marguerite." 
 
 " Arid what is the name of the old tutor of whom you 
 have spoken ?" 
 
 " Francesco." 
 
 The duke repeated the latter jialne to himself several 
 times. 
 
 " You are sure that Marguerite is your mother ?"_ he 
 said, after studying awhile. 
 
 " Why do you ask that ?" returned Conrad, eagerly. 
 
 " I have a reason for asking it." 
 
 "Indeed, my lord, I know not how to answer you. 
 By every tie of love and gratitude, Marguerite is my 
 mother ; but I have lately had reason to think that I 
 am but an adopted child. And yet I have never asked 
 her the question. Several times the words have been 
 upon my lips ; but, as though some subtle sympathy 
 told her my intent, she has avoided them. My instinct 
 tells me that the subject would pain her, and I have 
 spared her." 
 
 " Have you ever asked Francesco about it ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and he pretends that he knows nothing. 
 His replies, though seemingly explicit, have given me 
 more food for doubt than anything else." 
 
 " Have you any other friend than those you have 
 mentioned?" 
 
 " O, yes, sir. All theshepherds, and peasants, and 
 hunters of the Nord are my friends." 
 
 "I mean, Is there any other who has- seemed to take 
 an interest in your education ?" 
 
 " Only one, sir — Dagobert, the good old Abbot of 
 Saint Aubin." 
 
 " Ah," cried Casimir, with a perceptible start, " is he 
 your friend ?" 
 
 « Yes, sir." 
 
Casimir. 87 
 
 " He is a good old man. I have seen him. I know 
 hina well." 
 
 As the duke thus spoke, he arose and took several 
 turns up and down the apartment. He gazed sharply 
 at Conrad's profile each time he passed him, seeming all 
 the while busy with perplexing thought. Finally he 
 stopped and laid his hand upon the youth's shoulder : 
 
 " You left the prince bound hand and foot ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord — almost six leagues from here." 
 
 " And you do not know that his companion could 
 live r 
 
 " I was not sure." 
 
 " Then let me ask a favor of you. "Will you go with 
 me to the place ?" 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 " Enough. We will be off at once. We may find the 
 prince still helpless." 
 
 Conrad followed the duke down into the court, and 
 very soon two horses were ready for them ; and having 
 mounted, they rode away at a gallop. In less than an 
 hour and a half they reached the spot where the affray 
 had taken place, having spoken but very little on the 
 way. They found the dead bodies of Adolphe and 
 Tithon ; but the prince and Poins were gone. 
 
 " It is as I had thought," said Conrad. " The man-at- 
 arms was not dangerously hurt. He must have revived, 
 and set his master at liberty." 
 
 " It must have been so," returned the duke. " And 
 so, all we have now to do is to retrace our steps." 
 
 " Must we leave these corses here ?" 
 
 " Not for long. I will send some of my people from 
 the hamlet of Saint Mary to bury them. You will 
 return with me to Rennes." 
 
 " Is there need of it, my lord ?" 
 
 " Most certainly there is. You need refreshment ; 
 
88 
 
 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 and, moreover, you had better go away with your' own 
 horse." 
 
 Casimir made the last remark with a smile ; and 
 Conrad, with an answering smile, returned : 
 
 ihe horse which bore me to your castle is a 
 borrowed one." 
 
 " But," retorted the duke, " you had earned a r^ght to 
 his use." 
 
 " That may be, my lord." 
 _ " Then come and get him. But, my dear friend, that 
 IS not all. I must send some of my people to Vannes ; 
 so, if you come with me, you shall have company for the 
 most of your journey." 
 
 Conrad had no further objection to make ; so he 
 turned back with the duke towards Rennes. 
 
 CHAPTBR IX. 
 
 A NEED OF HELP AT THE COT. 
 
 * 
 
 It was quite late in the afternoon when the duke and 
 his companion arrived at the castle ; and when they had 
 eaten dinner, the sun had well nigh reached the tops of 
 the western hills. Of course Conrad could not think of 
 starting for home before another morning. 
 
 " You had better remain here to-night," said Casimir ■ 
 "and early on. the morrow you shall have company. 
 Your mother will not worry." 
 
 " If she does," replied the youth, " she will feel the 
 more joy when she meets me. But under the circum- 
 stances, I think I had better stop." 
 So the matter was arranged ; and while the duke went 
 
A Need of Help at the Cot. 89 
 
 to attend to some business affairs, Conrad walked out 
 into the court, where he met the captain of the men-at- 
 arms, who received him cordially, and with much 
 respect. Our hero was at first much surprised at the 
 manifest deference of the officer's manner ; for the 
 captain of . the men-at-arms was the highest officer of 
 the household, standing next to the duke in authority.- 
 But the matter was soon explained. They had walked 
 a short distance, and had spoken upon a few unim- 
 .portant topics; when Nicolas said : 
 
 ",My dear Conrad, is it true what I have heard touch- 
 ing your encounter with the people of the prince ?" 
 
 " That depends upon what you have heard," replied 
 the youth, with a smile. 
 
 " I have heard most marvelous things," continued the 
 captain. " Lancelot told me ; and Rachel told Lancelot ; 
 and Rachel says that the lady Rosaline told her. It is 
 said that you overcame Baptiste and Goliath." 
 
 " That is true." 
 
 " In open combat ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Nicolas gazed upon the young mountaineer in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " How was it ?" he at length asked. " I wish much to 
 hear the story." 
 
 " I know not that I ought to tell it all," said Conrad, 
 hesitatingly ; " but, as you have already heard so much, 
 and as you are an officer in the interest of the duke, I 
 may, without impropriety, give you the chief items." 
 
 "It would please me much, good sir, indeed it 
 
 would." 
 
 Conrad saw, from the captain's manner, that he was 
 passionately fond of adventure, and when he came to 
 relate the story with the warmth and appreciation of 
 
go The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 so much sympathy to help him, he gave new spirit to 
 his words, and fairly fought the battles over again. 
 
 " By Saint Michael !" cried Nicolas, after the story 
 was completed, and after he had asked numerous ques- 
 tions, " you must not refuse me a favor I have to ask. 
 I am an able soldier, and for fully twenty years I have 
 been under arms. I have a pair of fencing swords, and 
 I must test the quality of your prowess. I look not to 
 overcome the victor of Baptiste and Goliath, but I look 
 for the sport." 
 
 " Indeed, captain, I shall not refuse you ; for I am 
 p,s fond of the exercise as you can possibly be. I love 
 it. I never feel so gloriously the full measure of my 
 Spirits as when my old Francisco holds me a difficult 
 bout." 
 
 <' Then come. Let us to the sport before the day- 
 light is gone." 
 
 The captain led the way to the guard-room, which 
 wag large and high, where he soon produced the swords 
 of Ayhich he had spoken. They were of ordinary size, 
 with straight blades of the finest temper, the edges 
 roundi, and the points blunt ; and by the time the com- 
 batants had taken their positions, at least a score of 
 men-a,t-arms were present to witness the sport. 
 
 ~ Conrad's first guard was a subject of admiration to all 
 the beljolders. " What ease and grace !" remarked one. 
 " Look at the swelling of that chest !" said another. 
 " See the bend of the arm, and the play of the cords in 
 that wrlgt !" added a third. " Aye," chimed in a fourth, 
 " and mark the -flashing of those eyes ! By heaven, 
 they snap like sparks of fire !" 
 
 The play coinmenced, and Conrad very soon found 
 that his opponent was not only a master of the art, but 
 also that he had been trained very nearly in the same 
 school as himself. In. the size of the men there was but 
 
A Need of Help at the Cot. 91 
 
 little difference. Nicolas was a trifle the stoutest, while 
 Conrad was, perhaps, an inch the tallest. For some 
 minutes the swords flashed and clashed, moving in light 
 circles and at various angles. 
 
 " Ah — ^be careful !" whispered Conrad, so low that 
 only his opponent heard him. " If you venture that 
 again you will lose your sword." 
 
 "No, no," replied Nicolas, with a confident smile. 
 " My wrist is too quick and strong for that." 
 
 It was a favorite feint of the captain's— a succes^on 
 of brfUiant side plays, with a lunge at the throat. He 
 tried it again. Conrad allowed the feints to pass \nth 
 Kttle effort to meet them, for his eye told him their 
 aim ; but when the thrust came he had gathered all his 
 energy. He raised his hand to his chin, at the same 
 time leaping quickly back, and caught the opposing 
 point beneath his guard. Then, as quick as lightning, 
 he twirled his sword with a rotary motion, completely 
 winding it about the blade of his antagonist ; and in a 
 moment more the captain's weapon was clangibg upon 
 the pavement at the opposite side of the room. 
 
 " That was a splendid lunge of yours," said Conrad, 
 with honest appreciation ; " but you see I understand 
 
 it." - . , 
 
 "Aye, and you understand its master, too," cried 
 
 Nicolas.' "By heaven! I must improve nly sword- 
 
 "My old tutor is a perfect master," remarked 
 Conrad, "and I do really wish you could visit me at 
 my mountain cot, and see him handle his sWord. He 
 is three-score-and-five, and his hair is gray, but his 
 eye is still as keen as fire, and his wrist is as subtle as 
 
 a bow of steel." • -j-, ^.-u 
 
 " Let me promise myself that pleasure," sdid the cap- 
 
q2 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 tain warmly. " If I live, and the duke will spare me, I 
 will pay you a friendly visit." 
 
 " Good !" exclaimed Conrad, extending his hand. "I 
 shall look for you ; and you may be assured that your 
 welcome will he warm and heartfelt." 
 
 It was too late to try another pass, or Nicolas would, 
 for his own benefit, have asked for further play. As it 
 was, however, he felt a deeper friendship than before 
 for the young mountaineer, his late discomfiture not 
 worrjdng him in the least. He was a brave man, confi- 
 dent of his own prowess, and he regarded the man who 
 had proved to be his superior as worthy of respect and 
 esteem, and this return he frankly and freely gave. 
 
 '' Well and nobly done !" pronounced a deep voice, 
 near the door, as the sword of the captain fell upon 
 the pavement ; and those present gave way instinctively 
 for the new-comer. 
 
 In the meantime the duke had written a- letter, and 
 then turned to speak with his daughter, who had been 
 for some minutes standing by his side. 
 
 "Well, father," she said, as he turned a questioning 
 look upon her, " you have seen the young ihoun- 
 taineer, and conversed with him. What do you think 
 of him ?" 
 
 " I will' be frank with you, niy child. I think my sus- 
 picions were groundless. Conrad is a brave young 
 man, and his speech is true. We must give him some 
 fitting reward." 
 
 " How ? What reward can you give for such services • 
 as he has performed ?" 
 
 " O, that is simple enough," replied the duke, with a 
 smile. " The lad is poor, and will be benefited by some 
 gift — perhaps of money." • 
 
 " In mercy's name — no! no!" cried Rosaline, catching 4 
 her father's arm. " Don't offer insult." 
 
A Need of Help at the Cot. ' 
 
 93 
 
 " Insult, my child ? Would it be insult to offer money 
 to a poor man who had honorably earned it ?" 
 
 ''Earned it.'" echoed the maiden, gazing vacantly 
 into her father's face. " Has he worked like a laborer 
 for hire ? Earned it .' Can such deeds as his be done for 
 the money which the lord pays to his servant ?"' ' 
 
 " But, Rosaline,"— the duke spoke in a low, calm tone, 
 and with a keen, searching glance — " does not the work 
 merit a reward ?" 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " Would you turn such a friend away without recom- 
 pense ?" 
 
 " No — ^no — certainly not." 
 " Then what recompense would you give ?" 
 The girl sank into a chair, partly to collect her 
 thoughts, and partly that she might, for the moment, 
 hide her face. By and by she answered : 
 
 " I know his proud, noble feelings ; and I know what 
 reward will please him best. Let him bear away a 
 pledge of friendship and esteem from the Duke of 
 Rennes, and he will be satisfied." 
 
 " Would it not please him to add a like pledge from 
 the lady of Rennes ?" 
 
 " If he has not that pledge already, I fear ho words of 
 mine could make the possession more complete." 
 " Have you givpn such a pledge ?" 
 Rosaline met the inquiring look and there was a 
 strange flutter in her heart. She was too honorable, 
 too truthful, and had too much love and respect for her 
 father, to dissemble or prevaricate. She knew his mean- 
 ing, and would not stoop to a profession of ignorance. 
 She rested her brow upon her hand, not to reflect upon 
 an answer, but to call to mind what had passed between 
 her and her preserver. At length she arose, and rested 
 her hand upon her father's shoulder. 
 
g^ ' The Fortunes of^ Conrad. 
 
 " I cannot now remember what words of gratitude I 
 liave spoken to Conrad ; but I know that I have spoken 
 enough ; and I doubt not that I have betrayed more than 
 I have spoken. But, sir, no words have passed from my 
 lips that the daughter of a duke should not have uttered ; 
 nor has'Conrad lisped even a syllable which the poorest 
 peasant in the realm might not with propriety have 
 spoken to a queen." 
 
 Casimir took his daughter's hand, and thanked her for 
 her frankness. He knew that she meant to tell him the 
 whole truth, and yet his quick eye had discovered more 
 than she had spoken — ^perhaps more than she herself 
 knew. He had seen the youth, and conversed with him, 
 and he knew something of the influence which such a 
 nature must necessarily wield over the feelings and 
 emotions of a gentle, confiding, pure-hearted , girl, 
 especially under the poMierful help of such circum- 
 stances as had attended the companionship of Conrad 
 and Rosaline. He reflected awhile, still holding his 
 daughter's hand, and finally said : 
 
 " You are right, Rosaline. I will not offer him money. 
 I will give him my friendship." 
 
 The quick light of joy which shone upon the maiden's 
 face was afiswer enough ; and when she was gone, the 
 dul^e said to himself : 
 
 " The palace will burn as quickly as the hut, if the 
 fiery torch be applied. All hearts are fashioned after 
 one eternal model, and the lines of rank and station can- 
 not circumscribe their mysterious beatings !" 
 
 Then he arose, and went down into the court, and 
 arrived at the door of the guard room just in season to 
 witness the closing scene of the play between his captain 
 and Conrad. 
 
 " "VV^ell and nobly done !" he said, advancing into the 
 
A Need of Help at the Cot. 95 
 
 centre of the room. " I think you find a strong arm in 
 this young man, my captain." 
 
 " The strongest I ever met," replied Nicolas. " It is 
 strong and quick, and guided 15y a judgment as cool and 
 unerring as' mortal judgment can be." 
 
 The duke saluted Conrad kindly, and then walked 
 away with Nicolas, whom he had called to see on busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Conrad hoped he might see Rosaline before he retired 
 to rest, as he wished to know if she had come forth from 
 the late severe ordeal without serious shock to her sys- 
 tem. He did not acknowledge to himself that he wished 
 to see her for anything more. He might have asked her 
 father how it was with her ; or he might have asked 
 some of the servants ; but he dared not. He dared not 
 trust himself to exhibit his feelings before them. Surely 
 there must have been some deep emotions stirring within 
 him ; and, more still, he must have had knowledge of 
 them. 
 
 He retired to his couch at an early hour, and as he laid 
 his head upon his pillow he acknowledged to himself, 
 for the first time in spoken words, that which his heart 
 could na longer keep secret from his understanding. 
 
 " And' this it is to love !" he murmured, with his hands 
 clasped over his heart. " O, that the sweet angel were 
 but some mountain maid, that I might woo and win 
 
 her !" 
 
 Then he remembered what the maiden had said about 
 a strong heart's winning the object of its love. He 
 called to mind every look and tone ; and he almost 
 made himself believe that she had shown to him some- 
 thing more than the mere return of gratitude. He 
 might have gone on thence and built a fair palace df 
 love in skies of the future ; but the form of the proud 
 
96 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 duke arose darkly before him, shutting out the entranc- 
 ing vision. 
 
 At an early hour our hero was aroused from his 
 slumbers by the sound of the herald's trumpet, and 
 springing quickly from his bed, he was soon dressed 
 and ready for breakfast. He found Nicolas, with half a 
 dozen stout men-at-arms, at the table, and, as he took a 
 seat with them, he learned that they wete to be his 
 companions as far as Mauron. They were going to 
 Vannes. The meal was disposed of with much social 
 chat, and, as they arose from the table, the captain 
 announced that the horses were ready and that they 
 were soon to be off. 
 
 In the hall -Conrad met the duke and Rosaline. 
 Surely the maiden did not suffer from the effects of the 
 trial through which fate had led her. Her eyes were 
 beaming brightly, and her cheeks were suffused with a 
 warm glow. As she met the look of the youth, she left' 
 her father's side and took a step toward him, at the 
 same time extending her hand. The words of greeting 
 which she spoke were not so deep in their meaning as 
 was the quick light of the eye and the wreathing of the 
 happy smile that grew to life upon her beautiful 
 features. 
 
 " Good Conrad," spoke the duke, quickly taking his 
 daughter's place, " it is beyond the power of language 
 to tell you how much I owe you for what you have done ; 
 but your own heart will tell you how deeply I must 
 appreciate your services. You will take with you the 
 lasting friendship of myself and my daughter ; and in 
 the future I may have opportunity to give you some 
 more substantial token of my esteem. In the mean- 
 time, be never backward in calling upon the Duke of 
 Rennes for any assistance you may need. Adieu for 
 the present." 
 
A Need of Help at the Cot. 97 
 
 Conrad took tlie duke's hand and thanked him for his 
 kindness. Then he turned and bowed to Rosaline, and 
 very shortly afterward he was in his saddle. 
 
 It was a bright, pleasant morning, and the horses 
 were eager and strong. The distance to Mauron was 
 ten leagues, which place was reached in season to give 
 the beasts an hour's rest before dinner. At this point 
 Conrad was to separate from his companions. 
 
 "Remember," said our hero, addressing the captain, 
 as they came out from the inn, " you have promised to 
 come and see me in my mountain home." 
 
 " Aye," returned Nicolas ; " and tb see that rare old 
 tutor of yours. I shall be there, never fear. And in 
 the meantime, let me advise you to look out for yourself. 
 You have enemies." 
 
 " I am aware of that, good Nicolas ; but I have no 
 present fear." 
 
 " Ah," pursued the captain, shaking his head, " there 
 is no telling how the wicked prince may strike. But I 
 may learn something of his movements while I am in 
 Vannes ; and, on my return, I may call upon you. At 
 all events, if I learn anything which your safety requires 
 you should know, I will not fail to see you ; for such 
 was the order I received from the duke." 
 
 " You will meet with a warm welcome— you and your 
 companions," said Conrad. 
 
 And with this they parted, Nicolas and his followers 
 keeping the road to Vannes, while Conrad turned to the 
 north towards the mountains. 
 
 The distance was an easy afternoon's ride, and our 
 hero did not hurry. As he rode on alone his thoughts 
 were busy with the scenes and incidents of the past few 
 days • and when he talked with himself, which he did 
 much of the time, the fair lady of Rennes was his theme. 
 As he entered the deep forest, other thoughts forced 
 
98 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 themselves upon him — thoughts which he at first 
 attempted to put lightly away, but which came at each 
 succeeding visit with new power. They were thoughts 
 of the powerful enemy he had made ; and by the time 
 he had reached the entrance to the vale where his cot 
 stood he had admitted to himself the necessity of care 
 and caution. 
 
 The sun had already touched the tops of the moun- 
 tains, and the vale was in deep shadow, when he arrived 
 at the opening of the cleared space ; and he was not a 
 little astonished upon beholding half a dozen horses 
 hitched to the trees clo'se at hand. A few steps further 
 on, and he saw the cot. And another scene met his 
 gaze. A gray -haired old man and a woman were being 
 dragged along from the cot by a number of armed men. 
 The woman was his mother-^ and he could hear her cry 
 for mercy ! The man was Francisco, and he was bound 
 with his hands behind him. 
 
 For an instant Conrad grew sick and dizzy with the 
 sight ; but it was only the sudden hush which precedes 
 the bursting forth of the hurricane. 
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 
 A NEWTROOP. 
 
 Prince Bertrand did not lie lohg^bound as his captor • 
 had left him. Master Poins had not been quite so sense- 
 less as he had appeared. He had, in reality, recovered 
 his senses in season to see his master disarmed and 
 bound ; but a regard for his own safety had suggested 
 to him the propriety of remaining quiet until the dread- 
 
A New Troop. 99 
 
 ful mountaineer had gone. As soon as Conrad had dis- 
 appeared he rose to his feet, and approached the spot 
 ■where the prince lay ; and when the illustrious prisoner 
 had been released from his bonds, his first effort of 
 -returning power was to curse his attendant. Poinsbore 
 it with becoming fortitude, outwardly begging for mercy, 
 but inwardly thanking his stars that the sword of the 
 mountaineer had spared him to be the recipient of the 
 prince's curses. 
 
 After a while, however, Bertrand had cursed enough, 
 and his next idea was concerning the man who had so 
 humbled him. He would have followed him if he had 
 dared ; but his cooler judgment told him that his pur- 
 pose of vengeance would best be served by proceeding 
 cautiously. 
 
 " Of one thing," said he to his companion, " I am cer- 
 tain : This fellow is no common mountaineer." 
 
 " Who is he ?" asked Poins, with honest simplicity. 
 
 " That is what I am determined to find out. But we 
 can learn nothing here. I know where the rascal lives ; 
 and Adolphe informed me that an old man and woman 
 were left in charge of the premises. Of this couple I 
 will gain the information I seek. Come — ^let us be mov- 
 ing. Does your head pain you much ?" 
 
 Poins groaned terribly, for he was just beginning to 
 realize how badly his head was bruised. Returning 
 sense brought with it the power to feel pain. He went 
 down to the river and bathed the wounds, and when he 
 had bound a scarf about his head, he mounted a horse, 
 and set oflE by the side of his master. After a smart 
 ride of three hours they reached the town of Montfort, 
 where they rested until nine o'clock of the following 
 forenoon. Then they set forth again, and towards 
 noon they met a party of six armed men, well mounted, 
 and wearing the badges of the prince's followers. 
 
lOO The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 "Ha! — Bernardo— is this you?" cried Bertrand, as 
 he recognized the leader of the party. 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 " And whither go you ?" 
 ' " Did you not bid me follow you, by this road, to the 
 confines of Normandy ?" 
 
 " Ah, yes— I remember. By Saint Michael ! this is 
 most fortunate!" Then, turning to Poins, he added : 
 
 " You and I will be saved some trouble. I will have 
 that old man and woman brought to me at my castle, of 
 Montevere ; and, on the whole, I think the plan will be 
 a good one. They had better not be at home when 
 Master Conrad returns, for I have no great desire that 
 the fellow's story should be told to too many." 
 
 "But he will tell his story at Rennes," suggested , 
 Poins. 
 
 " Of course he will ; but I apprehend that the duke's 
 people will nqt be in a hurry to circulate it. Neverthe- 
 less, I will break up this nest ; and I'll have master 
 Conrad under my thumb ; and, as a commencement, 
 I'll secure these two old ones who have charge of his ^1 
 family secrets. He a mountaineer ! The thing is pre- 
 posterous. He is something more than he appears ;; 
 and what he is I am determined to know." 
 
 " Have you orders for us, my lord ?" asked Bernardo, 
 as the prince turned towards him again. 
 
 " Yes, — and important ones, too. In the forest to the 
 northwest, there is a cot ; and in that cot there are an 
 old man and an old woman. I want them brought to 
 me at my castle of Montevere. The place is not more 
 than eight or nine leagues away, and you can easily, 
 reach it, and secure the prize, and join me at Monte-' 
 vere by midnight I shall then have further work for 
 you " 
 
 " In what direction lies the next movement ?" 
 
A New Troop. loi 
 
 "In the same. After you have brought away this 
 old man and woman, you will return and wait for a 
 young villain who will be likely to wander back there 
 in a day or two. This youngster's name is Conrad; 
 and if you find it necessary to inquire for the cot, you 
 will ask for the residence of Conrad." 
 
 " I think I can find the place," said Bernardo. 
 
 " You cannot help it. But I part with you not quite 
 yet. Face about your troop, and follow me." 
 
 It was a custom of the prince's, when abroad on his 
 excursions, to have small parties of his best men-at-arms 
 scouring through the country upon the roads he was 
 likely to travel ; for he often found use for them. And 
 these soldiers were ready and anxious to serve him. 
 They never asked themselves what was right, or what 
 was wrong, so long as the prince had ordered it. 
 This was not because they loved the prince ; but 
 it was very evident that the prince of to-day was 
 soon to be king ; and then those who had served 
 him faithfully would stand in the way of reward. So 
 Bertrand had plenty of willing tools, for he held high 
 office in the army, and half the soldiers were at his 
 command. 
 
 At the distance of two leagues the party reached a 
 small river, where the prince pulled up and addressed 
 his officer : 
 
 " Here, Bernardo, we separate. You will follow this 
 stream towards the north, for I am very sure that these 
 waters roll through the vale in which Conrad's hut 
 stands. I do not think you can miss the way." 
 
 " There is no danger of that, my master." 
 
 " Then you understand what you are to do ?" 
 
 " I am to bring an old man and woman to you, at the 
 castle of Montevere." 
 
 « Exactly." 
 
I02 The Fortunes of Conrad. ^ 
 
 " But had I better not know tlie names of these 
 people ?" 
 
 " Aye — I forgot that. Let's see : their names are — " 
 
 Poins came to his assistance. 
 
 "The old man's name is Francisco, and the old 
 woman's is Marguerite." 
 
 " Those are the names," added the prince ; " and now 
 to your work." 
 
 " One word," said Bernardo ; " am I to treat them as 
 friends?" 
 
 The prince was still smarting under the memory of 
 the treatment he had received at the hands of Conrad, 
 and the spirit of vengeance extended even to those who 
 had reared the daring youth. 
 
 " No !" he thundered, bringing his clenched fist down 
 upon the pommel of his saddle. " They are the nurses 
 of vipers ! Yoij^ would not be unnecessarily severe to a 
 dog ; but you would not allow a dog to snarl and bite." 
 
 " I understand," returned Bernardo ; " and your com- 
 mands shall be obeyed." 
 
 The prince and Poins forded the stream, and kept on 
 to the westward, while the six men-at-arms turned to 
 the northward. 
 
 Bernardo kept on at a good pace for an hour or more, 
 when he arrived at a point where two streams came 
 together, and where there appeared to be two well- 
 trodden pathsc He forded the stream to the right, and 
 followed the other. At the end of another hour he con- 
 cluded that he ought to be somewhere very near to the 
 place he sought. In a little while he came to an open 
 space, where he met a boy, with a bow in his hand, a 
 quiver of arrows at his back, and a brace of hares over 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " Hark'e boy ! Do you know where a youtli named 
 Conrad, lives ?" 
 
A New Troop. 103 
 
 "Yes, sir, — I know where he lives when he is at 
 home." 
 
 The little fellow had a keen eye, and he surveyed the 
 armed party very narrowly. 
 
 "Where is his cot?" 
 
 " Not on this road, sir." 
 
 " Ha, — ^have we come out of our way ?" 
 
 " That depends upon which point you started from." 
 
 " We came from the south." 
 
 " Up the river ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Didn't you find two roads below here ?" 
 
 " Where the two streams came together ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, sir, — you took the wrong road. Your quickest 
 way to reach the cot is to go back and commence over 
 again." 
 
 " But there must be some way to cut off such a 
 tramp." 
 
 " Not unless your horses can climb over perpendicu- 
 lar walls of rock, and pick their way through' woods 
 where a fox would lose himself." 
 
 Bernardo uttered a round oath, and then ordered his 
 men to turn. 
 
 " Don't you mean to pay me anything for my infor- 
 mation ?" asked the boy. 
 
 " Not for such information as that," growled the offi- 
 cer ; and, without further remark, he turned his horse 
 and galloped off, followed by his companions. 
 
 The boy watched the troop until they were out of 
 sight, and then went on his way, muttering to himself 
 and shaking his head. In less than half an hour he was 
 at the cot in the vale, where he found old Francisco 
 just coming out, on his way to the cave. 
 
I04 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Ah, Simon — is this you ?" 
 
 " Yes, good father." 
 
 " You are on the wrong track for home." 
 
 " Not so far on the wrong track as are some others I 
 wot of." 
 
 " But it is late for you to be wandering, Simon. Your 
 mother will be watching for you." 
 
 " I came, father, to ask your pardon for a falsehood I 
 have been telling. Listen : Not far from here, and not 
 more than half an hour ago, I met six armed men. 
 They were villainous-looking fellows, whose dark eyes 
 flashed mischief ; and I know that they belonged to the 
 roving band that I have heard you speak of — ^the band 
 that goes about when the wicked prince has bad work 
 to do. The leader of these men asked me if I knew 
 where Conrad lived ; he wanted to find the cot. I 
 didn't like the looks of the men ;- and I didn't like the 
 tones of the leader's voice ; and T set them on the 
 wrong track." 
 
 " Why did you do that, my son ?" 
 
 " Simply that I might come andjnform you of what 
 was going on. I suppose they will find you ; but you 
 will have had warning, and may be prepared." 
 
 " And for what do you imagine I can be prepared ?" 
 
 "Indeed, good father, I cannot tell. Perhaps I did 
 very wrong." 
 
 " No, no, Simon. I thank you for your thoughtful- 
 ness ; and though your effort may prove of no advan- 
 tage to me, yet I appreciate your kind intention." 
 
 Francisco walked some distance with the boy toward 
 his home, questioning him, as he went, touching the 
 interview with the armed men. Simon had but little 
 to tell in addition to what he had already related. The 
 old man thanked him once more, and assured him that 
 
A New Troop. 105 
 
 lie had done nothing wrong ; after which he left the 
 lad to pursue his way alone. 
 
 " I will say nothing of this to Marguerite," said Fran- 
 cisco to himself. " There may be nothing out of the 
 way. This may be a portion of the party that Conrad 
 went to guide into Mayenne." 
 
 The old man was not given to useless surmising, nor 
 to groundless fears ; and he very soon resolved that he 
 would wait until the men-at-arms themselves made 
 their appearance. 
 
 The evening- passed away ; the night came and went ; 
 and another day drew near to its close. 
 
 " It could have been nothing very important that 
 those men wanted." 
 
 The hermit had scarcely murmured these words 
 when he beheld six men approaching from the wood. 
 They were soldiers, and the old man quickly discovered, 
 ,^y their uniforms, that they belonged to the private 
 ^orps of the prince. Marguerite, who had been all day 
 long on the watch for Conrad, heard the tramp of heavy 
 feet, and came out from the cot just as the men arrived. 
 
 "Is this the place where a youth named Conrad 
 Mves f asked Bernardo. 
 
 '" This is the place," replied Francisco, regarding his 
 iQterlocutor narrowly, and then sweeping his eye over 
 the others. 
 
 " Is your name Francisco ? " v 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " And is this woman's name Marguerite ?" 
 
 " It is." The old compaigner was a rare hand at 
 reading human faces, and he was not many seconds in 
 making up his mind that six wretches stood before 
 him. Their characters were, to 'him, plainly written in 
 their looks. They were bold men ; bat not brave men. 
 They were stubborn, wilful men : but not sternly 
 
io6 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 honest. They were soldiers, and might as well have 
 worn the garb of brigands. 
 
 " Francisco and Marguerite, you must go with us." 
 
 " Ha !" The old man started. " Whither go we ?" 
 
 " You shall iind out when you get there." 
 
 " I do not comprehend you, sir. If you wish us to 
 accompany you, you must be more explicit." 
 
 " We'll be explicit when the time comes ; but for the 
 present we have had just about as much perplexity as 
 we can bear. We've been hunting for you.since yester- 
 day noon ; and I verily believe " that just f our-and- 
 twenty hours ago we were within less than half-a-league 
 of here." 
 
 *• You must have taken a roundabout way, then." 
 
 " Aye — we did. A young imp, in the shape of a boy, 
 set us on the wrong track. But we've found you at 
 length, and you will make haste to go with us." 
 
 " You will tell me what this means before we go." 
 
 " No,— I haven't time." 
 
 " Are we to be prisoners ?" 
 
 " That is as you please to take it." 
 
 " By what authority do you come hither upon such an 
 errand ?" 
 
 " No matter. Are you ready to go with us ?" 
 
 Francisco's blood began to boil. What could be the 
 meaning of all this ? 
 
 " Look ye," he cried, starting back and drawing him- 
 self defiantly up, " I know that you are servants of 
 Prince Bertrand. Has the prince sent you upon this 
 errand ?" 
 
 " We came not here to be questioned," replied Ber- 
 nardo, angrily. " By the gods ! we have had trouble 
 enough in finding you, and we don't choose to have 
 more trouble in accomplishing our purpose, now that 
 
A New Troop. 107 
 
 you are found. If you have horses at hand you may 
 ride ; otherwise we must provide some other way." 
 
 At this juncture Marguerite sank upon her knees. 
 
 " In mercy's name, gentlemen, drag me not from my 
 home !" she cried, raising her clasped hands toward 
 the soldiers. "What have I done? Why would you 
 take me away ?" 
 
 " Stop the witch's mouth !" cried one of the heaviest 
 of the ruffians, with a brutal oath. " 'Fore God, we'll 
 be on the road ,the whole of another night." 
 
 " Lay not a hand upon her !" exclaimed the old man, 
 as one of the soldiers started towards the kneeling 
 woman. He had his heavy staff in his hand, and as he 
 spoke he raised it above his head. 
 
 " By Saint Michael !" growled Bernardo, " the old dog 
 means to bite ! We must make quick work of this." 
 
 Five of them sprang upon Francisco, wrenching the 
 staff from his grasp and bearing him to the ground. 
 They leaped for him while he was looking towards the 
 woman, or they might have had more trouble ; and, 
 even as it was, they found some difficulty in binding 
 him. But the work was at length accomplished ; and, 
 as the old man was lifted to his feet and led away, two 
 of the ruffians seized upon the woman and dragged her 
 on after her companion. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 UPON THE ROCKS. 
 
 Conrad approached the scene o£ this outrage at a gallop, 
 and as his eye caught the uniforms of the ruffians, he 
 recognized them as belonging to the same tribe of vil- 
 lains as had belonged those who had already crossed 
 his path. And more than this, the thought flashed upon 
 him that they had come directly from the prince ; he 
 was sure that such was the case — as sure as he could be 
 of anything of which his senses had not taken direct 
 cognizance. 
 
 " Hold there !" he shouted, reimng in his horse close 
 upon the leader of the gang. "What foul doing is 
 this ?" 
 
 The voice was one of authority and power, and the 
 men stopped and looked up ; btit when they saw the 
 humble garb of the speaker they started to move on 
 again. 
 
 " Don't stop," said Bernardo. " I will .look to this 
 young gentleman." 
 
 Conrad leaped from his horse, and sprang to _Fran- 
 cisco's side. His first impulse, as his feet touched the 
 ground, had been to draw his sword ; but another 
 thought came in its place. Before those who led the 
 prisoner could devine what was meant, the youth had 
 drawn his dagger, and cut the cord that bound the. old 
 
upon the Rocks. 109 
 
 man's arms. It was but the work of an instant, per- 
 formed as quickly as it had been conceived ■ and before 
 .the soldiers could discover what had been done, Conrad 
 had leaped back and drawn his sword. 
 
 " Rash boy, what would you do ?" cried Bernardo. 
 
 " Thus will I do !" spoke the youth, cleaving the skull 
 of the man who held Francisco's right arm. 
 
 As the fellow dropped senseless and powerless, Conrad 
 passed a quick word into the old tutor's ear : 
 
 " The sword ! The sword !" 
 
 Francisco needed not a second hint. He shook off 
 the ^asp of the ruffian from his left arm, and, with a 
 movement as nimble and brisk as sprightliest youth, 
 he grasped the sword of the fallen man, and darted to 
 the side of his friend and pupil. 
 
 " Look ye," exclaimed Conrad. " Hold ! One 
 word !" 
 
 Bernardo had started towards him, but at that motion 
 he stopped — stopped in spite of hijnself. He was like a 
 man suddenly brought from pitchy darkness into the 
 full glare of day. The movements of the new-comer 
 had flashed upon him so like a lightning-bolt that his 
 mind was for a moment unseated. Hence he stopped 
 the more readily at the word of command ; and his 
 companions galiered about him, one only remaining a 
 few paces away in charge of Marguerite. 
 
 " You are servants of the prince Bertrand, and have 
 been sent by that person to carry off these old people," 
 continued our hero, as the men-at-arms came to a stand- 
 still. 
 ' " Very well," replied Bernardo, " Suppose it is so ?' 
 
 " I know it is so." 
 
 « And I can tell you one thing more, my youthful cut,- 
 throat : You will go with them." , 
 
no The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Aye," cried Conrad, " I mean to do that very thing ; 
 but, mark me, we go not with you." 
 
 By this time the ofi&cer had fully recovered himself,^ 
 and raised his sword for work. 
 
 " Do not hesitate," whispered Conrad, into Francisco's 
 ear. " I know these fellows. I have a wonderful thing 
 to tell you. We must cut them down !" 
 
 The old man needed no further inducement. His 
 blood was up, and the fire of other days carried strength 
 and will to his arm. 
 
 " Surrender I" ordered Bernardo. " We would not 
 take your lives." 
 
 " Then go, and leave us in peace," replied Conrad. 
 
 The officer laughed. 
 
 " We are not boys," he said. 
 
 " Nor are you men," was Conrad's quick retort. 
 " You are villains, and cowards, or you would not be 
 thus dragging away two gray-haired old people as 
 though they were dogs !" 
 
 " That word seals your doom !" 
 
 So spoke Bernardo, with all the confidence of a mas- 
 ter "; and as the words passed his lips, he sprang forward. 
 He had not prepared for conflict, for he thought he had 
 only an inexperienced youth to deal with. He beheld 
 a form of power and beauty, but he did not think "of 
 there being anything more. He struck at Conrad's 
 sword, as though he would simply knock it down ; and 
 that stroke was his last. His own weapon was caught, 
 as though in a whirlwind, and in a moment more he 
 was borne back with the blade of his opponent through 
 his neck. 
 
 " Strike ! strike !" cried Conrad, as he shook the 
 leader of the gang from his sword. " I know these men. 
 We must conquer them or die !" 
 
 Francisco was once more a soldier ; and the master 
 
upon the Rocks. 1 1 1 
 
 who taught Conrad how tO/Use the sword, now gave 
 proof that he could work as well as play. The men-at- 
 arms were bunglers, at best ; and in this sort of combat 
 they were decidedly the weaker party. Conrad moved 
 to and fro with the rapidity of thought, keeping his 
 enemies all the time before him ; and that gray-haired 
 old man, who, but a short time since, was being dragged 
 helpless away, now fought like a hero in his prime. At 
 one time Conrad was opposed to two of the rascals, 
 while a third attacked Francisco. This latter ruffian 
 was Jjy far the best swordsman of his party, and he had 
 some wit, too. He fought entirely upon the defensive, 
 moving backward in a circle, and never offering to make 
 a lunge nor to strike a blow. By and by he had con- 
 trived to work around to the rear of the youth, and then 
 his object became apparent. With a tiger-like "bound 
 he left the old man, and sprang upon Conrad's back. 
 
 Francisco saw the movement at its start, and cried 
 out to his pupil. Conrad heard the cry in season to 
 swing around, thereby avoiding a thrust which had been 
 aimed at his side. In another moment master and pupil 
 were together, and two of the enemy went down 
 beneath their trenchant blades. 
 
 Five of the ruffians lay stretched upon the green- 
 sward, and the sixth threw down his sword, and begged 
 for mercy. 
 
 " Hold !" exclaimed Francisco. 
 
 "Fear not," replied Conrad, lowering his point. •"! 
 -Strike not an unarmed man." 
 
 The battle was over, and while Conrad led his mother 
 back to the cot, Francisco took the only living one of 
 the enemy in charge. When the youth returned, the 
 prisoner was sharply questioned, and he told his story 
 honestly. 
 
112 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " You met the prince not far from MoHtfort, you say ?" 
 remarked Conrad, interrogatively. 
 
 " Yes, sir. We met him and Poins." 
 
 " Yesterday noon ?" 
 
 " Just before noon, I think." 
 
 " And hut for the mistake of the boy, you would have 
 taken this old man and woman away yesterday ?" 
 
 "~Yes, sir." 
 
 " To the castle of Montevere, I think you said \" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And the prince is waiting there for you ?' 
 
 "We were to meet him there." 
 
 " That is enough. You need have no fear. We shall - 
 not harm you ; but for the present we mean to keep 
 you safely under our care." 
 
 The prisoner had a slight wound upon the shoulder, 
 and when this had been dressed, he was bound, hand 
 and foot, and carried to one of the outbuildings, where 
 he was left to his own reflections. 
 ' When Conrad and Francisco returned to the cot the 
 shades of night had gathered over the vale, and Mar- 
 guerite, who had been in no way harmed, soon brought 
 in a lighted candle. The good dame had not been 
 bodily injured, but she was nevertheless weak from 
 excitement and fear, though she breathed easier when 
 she found that her friends were safe. 
 
 " Now, my son," said the old man, as soon as they 
 were seated, " I am anxious to hear the meaning of all 
 this ; for I know that you have a story to tell." 
 
 •" Aye, father — I have a story ; and a wondrous one 
 it is, too." 
 
 And thereupon the youth went on and related all his 
 adventures, from the time of starting off with Baptiste 
 and Adolphe, up to his arrival at the cot an houj before. 
 Marguerite sat, pale and trenfbling, with her hands 
 
upon the Rocks. 113 
 
 folded in her lap ; while Francisco seemed more 
 inclined to admiration and astonishment ; rather dwell- 
 ing, during the recital, upon the brilliancy of his pupil's 
 deeds, than upon the danger incurred. But when the 
 story had been concluded, and the old man had had 
 time for reflection, a cloud came upon his brow, and a 
 look of trouble settled upon his face. 
 
 " Merciful Heayens !"• gasped Marguerite, " what shall 
 we do ! O, the boy must not be taken from us !" 
 
 "My mother," said Conrad, "you fear something 
 more than mere danger to my person." 
 
 " I fear everything !" cried the woman, wringing her 
 hands in agony. 
 
 "Hush, good sister," interposed the hermit, "We 
 may avoid the danger you fear." 
 
 " But how shall we avoid it ? The boy will be dragged 
 forth, and " 
 
 " Stop, Marguerite. Say no more." 
 
 Conrad understood too much of this. 
 
 " Look ye," he said, addressing Francisco ! " There 
 was one thing of which I did not tell you. The Duke 
 of Rennes, when he had taken a fair view of my face, 
 seemed struck by something which he saw there ; and 
 he asked me if I was sure that Marguerite was my 
 mother." 
 
 Marguerite uttered a low, quick cry of alarm, and 
 Francisco shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " And furthermore," pursued Conrad, "he seemed to 
 reraembef you, good Francisco. ~ In short, there was 
 something in my appearance which seemed to perplex 
 him ; and I am sure that his questions and behavior did 
 much perplex me." 
 
 " Indeed, Cdn'rad," replied the old man, earnestly and 
 solemnly, " I cannot tell you what the duke may have 
 suspected. For the present let us attend to other things* 
 
114 "^^^ Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 We have enougli to thint of without dragging up matters 
 of mystery. Is it not plain to you that we are all three 
 in danger ?" 
 
 " Certainly, father. I cannot hope that the wicked 
 prince will allow us to dwell here in peace." 
 
 " Most assuredly he will not ; and our only plan of 
 safety is to get away from here as soon as possible. 
 Bertrand has too many tools at' his command for us to 
 brave him. I am in favor of going this very night. It 
 seeins that these soldiers were sent upon us yesterday ; 
 and had they met with no trouble they would have 
 delivered us up to their master many hours ago. 
 Should more men-at-arms be sent this way, the prince 
 will learn that he has new cause of vengeance against 
 us." 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried Marguerite, " we must leave this 
 place to-night." 
 
 " And whither will you go ?" asked Conrad. 
 
 " To the Abbey of Saint Aubin," answered Francisco. 
 " Dagobert will give us safe shelter." 
 
 Our hero thought as did the others. There could be 
 no further safety for them at the cot, and the sooner 
 they got away the better. 
 
 " The night is likely to prove fair," he said ; " and we 
 may reach Rennes before morning. Aye — ^we can rest 
 there some hours before day, if we let our horses go at 
 their own speed. I suppose you intend to go by the way 
 of Rennes ?" 
 
 " That is the best.road, certainly." 
 
 Marguerite needed no inducing. She had resolved 
 that she would remain in the vale no longer, if she could 
 get away ; and the Abbey of Saint Aubin was the only 
 place to which she thought of fleeing. So the arrange- 
 ments were quickly made ; and within an hour after 
 they had entered the cot, Conrad and Francisco went 
 
upon the Rocks. 115 
 
 out to prepare the horses. When they were ready to 
 set forth, the prisoner was brought out, and his bonds 
 taken off ; and then the hermit asked him whither he 
 intended to go. 
 
 " Can I have my horse ?" the man asked. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then I shall make the best of my way into Nor- 
 mandy. I have friends there." 
 
 " Do you mean to leave the prince ?" 
 
 " Aye, I might as well take my own life, as to return 
 to the prince with the answer I should be forced to 
 carry." 
 
 Francisco believed that the fellow spoke the truth, 
 and he was suffered to depart. 
 
 After this the old man and his pupil went out to the 
 scene of the conflict, and dragged the five dead bodies 
 down to the river, and then returned and assisted Mar- 
 guerite to her saddle. They had little property of value 
 to leave behind them, and as little to burden themselves 
 with on their joitmey. 
 
 " Alas !" said the good woman, as they rode forth from 
 the vale, "I fear that we shall never see this quiet 
 retreat again ; and something whispers to me that our 
 period of repose is at an end." 
 
 " Courage, Marguerite. The good abbot can give us 
 shelter for the present ; and, if the need shall come, we 
 can leave Brittany." 
 
 "You heard what Conrad said touching the duke's 
 questions ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Marguerite looked to see that the youth was beyond 
 hearing, and then she proceeded. 
 
 « It is possible that Casimir already suspects." 
 
 " How can he suspect ?" 
 
 « Is not the boy's face a tell tale ? Look at him and 
 
1 1 6 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 remember how the duke met him — ^met him flushed 
 with the pride of victory and with the fire of the 
 warrior in his eye. Remember — the duke knew his 
 father—" 
 
 " Aye," said Francisco, thoughtfully ; " the duke was 
 one of his father's nearest friends." 
 
 " Certainly," responded Marguerite ; " and I think the 
 duke hath eyes. Think of it." 
 
 "You may be right, my sister," returned Francisco. 
 " It may be that Casimir has some inkling of the truth." 
 
 "And if he has an inkling, may not others have the 
 same? I tell thee, Francisco, we must flee from 
 Brittany. Remember our promise." 
 
 " I do not forget it." 
 
 " You cannot forget it." 
 
 At this point in the conversation the road became 
 wider, and Conrad fell back to Francisco's side, shortly 
 after which the pace was increased to a gallop. 
 
 At midnight they reached Montfort, but made no 
 stop. At a short distance beyond Montfort Conrad dis- 
 covered that his horse began to grow lame. He stopped 
 and examined the animal's feet ; but could find no out- 
 ward sign of trouble. An hour passed, and the lame- 
 ness was too palpable to be mistaken. The right fore 
 foot seemed to be weak, as though the ankle were 
 sprained. 
 
 "I am sorry for the poor horse,* said our hero, as 
 Marguerite began to worry ; " but I think he will carry 
 me safely to Rennes." 
 
 " He is very lame," returned the dame, with much 
 concern. She regarded accidents, in the pursuit of 
 important purposes, as sure precursers of evil, and on 
 the present occasion she was very anxious. 
 
 " We have not much further to go, good mother — not 
 
upon the Rocks. 117 
 
 more than, two leagues, at the outside. The beast will 
 carry me through. " 
 
 They were at the top of a hill, and when about half 
 way down, the horse stumbled, and came nigh pitching 
 upon his knees. Conrad drew the rein with a jerk, and, 
 without thinking, gave a vigorous plunge with the spur. 
 The beast leaped up, and dashed down the hill at the 
 top of his speed. It was a rocky, uneven place ; and 
 when the horse next stumbled, which he did while under 
 full headway, he went over upon his shoulder, throwing 
 his rider off among the rocks by the roadside. Francisco 
 hurried to the spot, where he found the horse dead, and 
 Conrad insensible. The beast's neck was broken ; and 
 at first the fear fell like a thunderbolt Upon the old man 
 that his pupil was lost to him forever. 
 
 Marguerite was soon upon her knees by the side of 
 the fallen youth ; and as she raised his head upon her lap, 
 she discovered that blood was running down his face. 
 A cry of alarm escaped her. 
 
 " Merciful Heaven ! is this to be the last of the 
 house .'" 
 
 The agony of the woman caused Francisco to be more 
 cool ; and he suggested that they should find out as 
 quickly as possible the nature of the injuries which their 
 charge had received. 
 
 There was one wound upon the side of the head, from 
 which the blood was flowing freely ; but they could find 
 no other hurt. This was bound up with a napkin and a 
 scarf ; and shortly afterwards Conrad opened his eyes, 
 and spoke ; but not with reasoii. He seemed to fancy 
 that he was in the hands of Goliath and Baptiste, and he 
 called the name of Rosaline. A little while he ran on 
 thus and then became again unconscious. 
 
 « We must take him to the nearest inn," said Mar- 
 iguerite. 
 
1 18 T^e Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " We will take him to the Castle of Rennes," returned 
 Francisco. 
 
 " But— the duke—" 
 
 " Stop, good Marguerite. If the boy is to be long 
 prostrated, he must be where his enemies cannot trouble 
 him. If we take him to an inn, or to the cot of a peas- 
 ant, the followers of the prince may find him ; but if we 
 take him to the castle, no danger from that source can 
 reach him." 
 
 Marguerite saw and understood the force of her com- 
 panion's reasoning, and she was content to admit that 
 the plan was proper. 
 
 So they placed Conrad upon the back of a horse, in 
 as easy a position as possible, while Francisco walked 
 by his side, carefully guarding against further accident. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 NEED OF COURAGE. 
 
 When the Duke of Rennes was informed that Conrad 
 du Nord had been brought to the court of the castle, 
 wounded and insensible, he made as much haste to have 
 the youth attended to as he would have made had the 
 king been brought to his gates in like condition. It 
 was early in the morning ; but most of the inmates of 
 the castle were, stirring ; and the youth was borne to a 
 well-appointed chamber, where a physician belonging 
 to the household was soon in^ attendance. Marguerite 
 would not leave her charge until she knew the worst ; 
 so she remained by the bed, and helped the leech. The 
 blood was washed from the head and face ; and it was 
 
Need of Courage. 119 
 
 finally decided that the only serious injury was the 
 ■wound already attended to. There were several bruises 
 upon the back and left shoulder ; but of a light char- 
 acter. After this conclusion had been arrived at, 
 restoratives were applied, and at length the patient 
 opened his eyes. 
 
 The physician apprehended no great danger. He 
 thought the youth would soon recover; but, for the 
 present, to avoid fever, he recommended that as few 
 should remain in the room as possible. So all went out 
 save the doctor and Marguerite, some of the servants 
 waiting near at hand to answer in case their services 
 should be required. 
 
 The duke called Francisco to his own apartment, 
 where he asked for an explanation of what he had seen. 
 The old man commenced at the beginning, telling of 
 the coming of the six men-at-arms to the cot ; of the 
 arrest of himself and Marguerite ; of the tiiaely arrival 
 of Conrad ; and of the battle, and its results, closing 
 with an account of the accident by the road-side. 
 
 During the recital the duke watched the narrator 
 very narrowly, seeming to study every change of his 
 countenance. 
 
 " I think you were wise in leaving the cot," he said; 
 " and it is fortunate that you have reached my castle. 
 Had you been forced to seek shelter for the youth at 
 any other place, there would have been danger. The 
 truth is, my good sir, the prince is carrying a high, bold 
 hand in Brittany. He is not only powerful with his 
 own immediate followers, but he is gradually bending 
 the retainers of the king to his purposes." 
 
 ." I know that such is the case, my lord," returned 
 Francisco, with a sad shake of the head ; " and I only 
 wonder that the king does not interpose his royal 
 hand." 
 
I20 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 « Ah, Theobald is old." 
 
 " Not so old as I am by more than five years," cried 
 the hermit ; " and my arm is as strong, my eye as 
 piercing, and my head as clear as when I served — " 
 
 " Served where ?" asked the duke, as the old man 
 hesitated. 
 
 " In the army, my lord." 
 
 "What army?" 
 
 " I know of but one army." 
 
 " But there are many departments to that army, my 
 good Francisco. I think you served in the household 
 of the Duke Charles." 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 The old man seemed troubled as he replied, but 
 Casimir passed lightly on, and relieved him from his 
 disquietude. 
 
 " I can easily see how you have retained your facul- 
 ties, father ; — I can see that you have ■ lived a life of 
 sobriety and temperance, and that your passions have 
 been kept under control ; but it has not been. so with 
 the king. He never was a strong man. His brother 
 Charles would have made a better king." 
 
 " Much better," responded Francisco, reverentially. 
 
 " As it is," pursued the duke, " we must make the best 
 of it. The . prince has power, and for the present our 
 young friend must be kept out of his way. I am glad 
 Conrad is here. He has rendered me a most important 
 service, and I cannot do too much for him, I trust this 
 present injury may not prove serious." 
 
 Francisco hoped so, with all his heart. 
 
 " You were going to Saint Aubin, I think you said ?" 
 remarked Casimir. 
 
 " Yes, my lord. The abbot is a friend of mine." 
 
 " Very well — this accident need not prevent you from 
 pursuing your journey, if you are desirous of doing so." 
 
Need of Courage. 121 
 
 " I am very desirous. I wisli to see Dagobert." 
 
 At this juncture a servant came and announced that 
 breakfast was ready, and the duke invited the old man 
 to go down with him. 
 
 After breakfast the physician pronounced his patient 
 out of danger ; and before noon the youth was in per- 
 fect possession of his senses. 
 
 The lady Rosaline had been 'very anxious — so 
 anxious that she had not dared to question her 
 father — and when she heard the report of the physifcian 
 she became bright and hopeful. At length she con- 
 trived to obtain an interview with Marguerite, from 
 whom she gained the same story which Francisco had 
 told to the duke ; and when sh6 had heard it, Conrad 
 stood higher, if possible, in her esteem, than before. 
 
 On the following morning the physician announced 
 that his patient was not entirely out of danger, but that, 
 with care, he would soon be well again. Francisco and 
 Marguerite were consulting upon the course they had 
 better pursue. The dame was very anxious to see the 
 old abbot, and it was rather necessary that her com- 
 panion should accompany her. The duke overheard 
 them, and took the liberty to join them. 
 
 " If it is your wish to proceed to Saint Aubin," he 
 
 ' said, " you need ndl wait here on Conrad's account. I 
 
 will be responsible for his safe-keeping. , He shall have 
 
 the best of nursing, and in every respect he shall find 
 
 himself at home." 
 
 " It is important that we should see the abbot," 
 returned Francisco ; " and if the boy can be cared for 
 without us, I think we had better go. " 
 
 " It is not far from here ?" said Marguerite, interroga- 
 tively. 
 
 "Not over eight leagues," replied -the duke. "You 
 may easily take dinner at the abbey." 
 
122 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 The. good dame reflected awhile, and finally concluded 
 that she would go. As her decision was all tKat was 
 waited for, there was no further question ; and prepara- 
 tions were at once made. Marguerite went in to see 
 Conrad ; and when she had told him where she was 
 going, she assured him that she should not remain long 
 away from him. 
 
 " I might do my business with the abbot, and return 
 in a day or two," she said ; "but there is no need of , 
 such an arrangement. It is better that you should 
 come to us at Saint Aubin as soon as you are able. 
 Will you do so ?" 
 
 Conrad promised that he would. 
 
 " Then," pursued the dame, " I shall try and rest 
 easy. I am sure that the duke will take good care of 
 you while you are here ; and he will also see yoii safely 
 to the abbey." 
 
 " You may rest assured upon these two .points," spoke 
 a voice from the other side of the room. It was the 
 duke who had entered. He had not seen the yoirth 
 since the previous evening, and he had come to inquire, 
 personally, after the patient's health, and also to offer 
 the hospitality of the castle. He sat down by the bed- 
 side, and while he conversed with Conrad he scanned 
 those features carefully over again." He was thought- 
 ful not to weary the invalid with too much conversa- 
 tion, and when he had said what he had to say, he arose 
 and withdrew. In the hall he met Francisco. 
 
 The horses were ready caparisoned in the court, and 
 the old hermit was in a hurry to depart. When he saw 
 the duke coming, he acted as though he would avoid 
 him ; but the thing was not possible. Casimir hailed 
 him, and asked him to follow him to his library, 
 
 " I wish to speak with you a moment, good Fran- 
 cisco." 
 
Need of Courage. 123 
 
 The old man bowed liis head, and followed, but with 
 a seemingly reluctant step. He felt sure that he was 
 to be questioned upon some topic of which he would 
 rather not speak. When they had reached the li'Srary 
 the duke closed the door, and motioned his guest to a 
 seat. 
 
 "Francisco," Casimir commenced, in an earnest, 
 direct manner, " I have called you hither to ask you a 
 few questions upon a very important matter ; and I 
 hope you will find it in your pleasure to answer me." 
 
 "Allow me to hope, my lord, that you will ask noth- 
 ing which I cannot answer," replied Francisco. 
 
 " We shall see. In the first place, however, let me 
 assure you that I will ask nothirtg which there can be 
 any harm in answering." 
 
 " Of which, my lord, you must allow me to be the 
 judge." 
 
 " Certainly. And now, to commence : I speak of 
 Conrad. He has been brought up from infancy by 
 Margiierite, and you have been his tutor ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But you are not his father ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Is Marguerite his mother ?" 
 
 " Ah, my lord, — ^you are forcing me to hesitate." 
 
 "Not at all, good Francisco. Your answer already 
 given is sufficient. Marguerite is not his mother." 
 
 " My lord," plead the old man, with a look of earnest, 
 prayerful appeal, " do not question me further. I am 
 bound by an oath. Have mercy." 
 
 " You need not break your oath, Francisco, for you 
 can give me some satisfaction without doing so. I 
 know that Conrad is not the son of Marguerite ; I know 
 that he is not the son of any living parent ; and I 
 
124 Th^ Fortunes of, Conrad. 
 
 • r ^^ — ■ • ' — ■ ■ 
 
 furthermore know that both you and she were once in 
 the service — " 
 
 "My lord, you must not approach me thus. You 
 might as well put questions direct, as drive me into 
 unanswerable comers." 
 
 " Another answer," said the' duke, with a smile. " I 
 tell you my trusty friend, to me the whole story is 
 written on the youth's face." 
 
 Francisco gave a start, but made no reply. 
 
 " Now," pursued Casimir, after a short pause, " I must 
 put a question direct "Why was the life of that child 
 concealed, and the falsehood of his death published ?" 
 
 The old man steadied himself, with his hands upon 
 his knees, and gazed 'down upon the floor. 
 
 " You may answer me the question, Francisco." 
 
 " I will answer it, my lord ; but you must look to see 
 your next question treated in a different manner. The 
 child was hidden away to save its life ?" 
 
 " How ? To save its life ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Surely, its life was not threatened." 
 
 " I can tellyou nothing of that. All I can say is, its 
 mother feared for it. What she may have seen in the 
 future I cannot say." 
 
 " It is enough," said Casimir, rising from his seat, 
 and stairting across the room. " The niother may have 
 been wise. At all events she acted, after the prompt- 
 ings of her own heart ; and I think her love for the 
 child led her to do as she did. Dagobert knows of 
 this ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " Thank you, Francisco. I will detain you no 
 longer." 
 
 " But, my lord duke— I must ask you to be—" 
 
 " Pooh ! Have no fear on my account. I tell you. 
 
Need of Courage. 125 
 
 the boy has not a better friend on earth than I will 
 prove myself." 
 
 There was something in the duke's mariner which 
 Francisco did not like ; but he had no opportunity to 
 offer further remonstrance ; for Casimir had opened the 
 door, and passed out into the hall. 
 
 The horses were ready in the court, and a dozen of 
 the duke's men-at-arms had been detailed to accompany 
 the travelers on their way. Marguerite was waiting ; 
 and now that she was ready for the start, she was 
 anxious to be on the way. The old hermit attempted 
 twice to speak with his host upon the subject of the secret 
 of which they had been conversing ; but he did not 
 gain the opportunity. 
 
 " Have no fear, good Francisco," said the duke, after 
 the old man had gainedTiis saddle. " All is safe with 
 me. The boy could not be in better hands." 
 
 " I must trust you, my lord ; and I shall try to put 
 away all uneasiness. You have a sacred charge.; for 
 you have promised to be a friend to him who has been 
 indeed a friend to you." 
 
 A final word of parting was spoken, and Francisco 
 and Marguerite rode out from the court, accompanied 
 by the friendly guard which their host had seen fit to 
 give them. Casimir watched them until they had 
 passed beyond the walls, and then he returned to his 
 library, where he spent a full hour in deep thought, 
 sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, sometimes 
 walking to and fro, and all the while talking with him- 
 self. 
 
 " Let things take their own course," he finally said, 
 sinking into a chair and gazing into the vacancy before 
 him. " Thus far I have had no hand in the mysterious 
 workings ; and I will stand aloof and see what the 
 result shall be." 
 
126 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 He still gazed into the vacant space, as though his 
 imagination were drawing pictures there, and framing 
 marvelous structures for some future time; 
 
 Conrad improved wonderfully. The wound upon the 
 head was not at all serious, and the perfect freedom of 
 his system from all impurity gave him safe conduct 
 from fever. At the end of the second day he was 
 allowed to dress himself ; and on the morning of the 
 third day the physician permitted him to walk in the 
 garden. 
 
 " Whither now, my child ?" asked the duke, as he met 
 Rosaline in the hall. 
 
 She trembled, and cast her eyes upon the pavement.' 
 
 "You do not answer me," pursued" Casimir; but his 
 tone was low and kind. 
 
 " Dear father," the maiden at length replied, " I trust 
 that I am doing nothing wrong. Conrad is in the gar- 
 den. I have not seen him, to inquire after his health, 
 since his mother went away." 
 
 " And you are now on your way to ofifer him your 
 greetings ?" 
 
 " Yes — ^if you do not forbid it." 
 
 " No, no, my child ; I have no disposition to lay such 
 an injunction upon you. We owe the youth too much. 
 Your life and your sacred honor he hath saved to us'. I 
 do not fear to trust him ; and surely I should have no 
 fears of trusting you. Go to him ; and if your presence: 
 can cheer him, he may the sooner recover." 
 
 Rosaline sped away, and found Conrad walking 
 beneath the shadowy arms of the great chestnut trees. 
 She stopped when she came near unto him ; but he, - 
 seeing her smile of greeting, quickly advanced to meet 
 her. He was too glad to see her — too happy in the 
 bright presence — to hesitate ; and she, when the rich 
 
Need of Courage. 127 
 
 voice of her brave preserver sounded again upon her 
 ear, put away all false reserve, and met tim as a sister 
 might have met a brother. 
 
 As brother and sister they conversed during the 
 
 bright hours of that forenoon. On the following '^ay, 
 
 however, somewhat of the, brotherly and sisterly f ree- 
 
 ■ dom was lacking. And on the day following that, they 
 
 seemed to have lost all their lightness and joy. 
 
 It was towards the close of a warm, beautiful day, 
 and the lengthening shadows were gratefully cooling 
 the yerdant spots where the rays of the sun had been 
 pouring down with unwonted heat. Conrad and Rosa- 
 Hue were sitting in the chestnut grove, both silent and 
 thoughtful. 
 
 " You are not able to go yet," said the maiden, in 
 answer to a remark which her companion had made 
 some time before. 
 
 " I am better able to go than I am to stay." He 
 gazed into her beautiful face a few moments, and then 
 he added : " I am not used to falsehood, nor to decep- 
 tion of any kind. I will speak the truth, trusting that 
 it will not offend you. Were I of gentle blood— were I 
 of a family that held rank somewhere near your own— 
 I would stay in Rennes yet awhile longer." He would 
 have turned away and concealed his face, for he knew 
 that his lips quivered, and that his eye was tearful ; but 
 the immediate answer of his companion prevented. 
 
 « Conrad," she said, with noble frankness, at the same 
 time laying her hand upon his arm, " I am no more 
 used to deception than are you. I have no right to bid 
 you remain, if you have made up your mind to leave 
 us ; but there is one who has that right." 
 
 " Rosaline " 
 
 « My father has that right." 
 
128 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 The blood mounted to the youth's temples, and his 
 whole frame trembled. 
 
 " Your father ?" he repeated. 
 
 " My father !" she answered, in tones of strange 
 melody. 
 
 " In mercy's name, do not jnisunderstand me, lady !" 
 
 " I am sure that I do not." 
 
 " But — ^if your father should bid me stay ?" 
 
 " I should be happy." 
 
 " Rosaline ! — O,' this is too bright ! Should I stay 
 longer here, I could never leave, but — " 
 
 The fair girl looked up into his face, and whispered : 
 
 " Speak on." 
 
 "I could never leave, but with the prize my heart 
 would win ! Do not blame me for speaking thus." 
 
 " Courage, Conrad. I know your heart, for I am not 
 blind. Your arm failed not before the prince ; and you 
 need not tremble before the duke." She placed her 
 hand upon his open palm, and. as he closed his grasp 
 upon the precious offering, he knew that the love of the 
 noble girl was his. 
 
 , But he dared to say no more. It was but a promise 
 from Rosaline that she would wait for her father's 
 decision He must see the duke ere the prize could be - 
 secured. 
 
 Courage '. 
 
 So whispered Conrad to himself ; and yet he trembled 
 with more than mortal fear. He could have met a 
 score of Brittany's bravest warriors in battle array with 
 more hopeful courage than came to sustain him as he 
 approached the proud duke with that momentous ques- , 
 tion upon his trembling lips. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE DUKE SPEAKS PLAINLY. 
 
 It was late in the evening when the duke retired to 
 his library, and thither Conrad followed him. Casimir 
 greeted his young guest cordially, and pointed him to a 
 seat. The host was calm and patient, while the visitor 
 was nervous and uneasy. When our hero found him- 
 self seated in the presence of the Lord of Rennes, with 
 that strange business upon his hands, he would have 
 given much to have been lifted by some kind power 
 from the chamber, and set down in the court, where the 
 fresh air might have fanned his flushed brow. What 
 hope had he of success ? What hope had he that his 
 petition would be received even respectfully? What 
 right had he, a poor mountaineer, nameless and home- 
 less, to lift his eyes to the lady of Rennes ? What right 
 had he to approach her with love? The more he 
 thought of it, the more perplexed did he become ; and 
 the longer he sat there, the more apparent became his 
 trouble. 
 
 The duke saw very plainly that the young man 
 needed help, and he kindly offered relief. 
 
 " My dear Conrad, you have something to say to me." 
 
 The young man started, as if from a troublous dream. 
 
 " Surely, you should not hesitate to trust me. I owe 
 you too much," 
 
130 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " No, no, my lord ; you do not owe me that which can 
 warrant the liberty I have thought of taking." 
 
 "You will allow me to be the judge." 
 
 The duke smiled as he spoke, and Conrad felt more 
 courage. 
 
 " I know, my lord, that I have no right to approach 
 you as I have thought to do ; but I throw myself upon 
 your mercy. I do not claim that the service I have 
 rendered entitles me to much consideration ; and yet I 
 must plead that service in extenuation of the liberty I 
 am about to take. If you turn me away with a refusal, 
 which you have a perfect right to do, you will, in con- 
 sideration of said service, pardon me at the same time." , 
 
 " My brave boy," said Casimir, with warm frankness, *-; 
 " you are pardoned beforehand. Now speak." '■ 
 
 Conrad had need of all his strength, and before he 
 opened his lips with speech, he sought to control his 
 scattering senses. ■ 
 
 " My lord duke," he commenced, in a low, breathless ' 
 tone, but gaining strength as he proceeded, " circum-^- 
 stances over which I had no control brought me into , 
 companionship with your "daughter ; and I think I may 
 say that the circumstance of my service to her was also 
 independent of my own will. Yet I saved her from a 
 terrible fate ; and, as was natural, she leaned upon me 
 for support. What could I do ? I gazed into her soft, 
 bright eyes, and listened to the sweet music of her voice. ; 
 I felt my heart throb, and my blood warm with strange 
 emotion. Pardon me if I speak plainly. I felt this, 
 and I knew that it was love. My reason told me that^ 
 such love would be hopeless, and I determined to stifle 
 it. I came with the lady to your castle ; and I went 
 away without daring to lift my hopes to the object upon 
 which my heart had fixed its first strong love. I went 
 away, thinlyng that 1 might see Rosaline again, and yet ' 
 
The Duke Speaks Plainly, 131 
 
 half resolved that I would not. Once more blind cir- 
 ctimstance brought me hither, and once more I found 
 myself in her company. And, sir — ^believe if you can — 
 the secret of my love was dragged forth without any 
 direct intent on my part. But the story was told — the 
 lady knew that I loved her ; a,nd the blessed belief was 
 given me that my love was returned. Now, sir, you 
 know all. You can speak the word which shall send 
 me away with the dawn of another day, or " 
 
 "t)r I can bid you stay at the castle awhile longer, 
 you would say ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 The duke did not seem at all surprised at what he had 
 heard. He listened as' he would have listened to the 
 details of an ordinary business transaction. 
 
 " Conrad," he said, " you have been frank, and I will 
 be the same. I do not now tell you that you may hope 
 for the hand of my daughter ; nor do I refuse. I must 
 have time for .the answer ; and during that time there 
 may be much to be accomplished. In the first place, 1 
 could never consent to bestow my child upon one with- 
 out name or station." 
 
 Conrad's countenance fell, and his lip trembled. 
 
 « Then, sir," he said, " the answer is already given." 
 
 « Not so, my boy. Give me your attention a few 
 moments, and assist me to discuss a very important 
 matter. Marguerite is not your mother." 
 
 Our hero was all attention in a moment. 
 
 « I have conversed with Francisco, and of so much I 
 have assured myself. But I could learn no more from 
 his lips He is under an oath to keep his secret." 
 
 " To keep the secret of my parentage ?" cried Conrad, 
 starting up from his chair. 
 
 « Easy, my boy. Sit down, and listen to me. You 
 
The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 must not blame Francisco. You have more occasion to 
 bless him." 
 
 " Aye — so I have," murmured the youth, sinking back 
 into his seat. " But why, if they have known my 
 p.arentage, should they have kept the secret from me ?" 
 
 " That," replied the duke, with a smile, " is more than 
 we can determine; for neither Francisco nor Mar- 
 guerite is here to answer. We must confine ourselves 
 to that which is within our reach. You have already 
 placed yourself in a position of anxiety ; and if I add 
 thereto, it is because I hope the end may be a pleasant 
 one. I can tell you what I know — or, at least what I 
 have the best reason for believing. Your parents both 
 died when you were an infant. Your father was slain 
 in battle, and your mother lived not long after she 
 learned of his death. Now it may be that your father 
 was of gentle blood. I think it more than probable ; 
 and if such should prove to have been the case, and 
 your identity can be established, I should not hesitate 
 to bestow upon you the hand of my child." 
 
 Conrad gazed upon his host in speechless suspense. 
 He had never before thought of such a parentage, and 
 ' yet the prospect did not strike him with much surprise. 
 It seemed as though the words of the duke had 
 awakened a slumbering instinct of nobility in his soul, 
 whicTi, with its first dawn of life, overleaped the barrier 
 of impossibility. , , ~ 
 
 " Tell me, my boy ; suppose I could establish the 
 fact that your parents were both of noble blood, would 
 you openly claim the station thus offered ?" 
 
 " Do you ask me such a question, my lord ?" The 
 flash of the eye ; the compression of the finely curved 
 lips ; the mantling flush upon the broad, full brow, and 
 the swelling of the deep chest, were more emphatic than 
 were his words. ■ 
 
The Duke Speaks Plainly. 133 
 
 " You would claim your station, Conrad ?" 
 
 "Aye, sir." The thought thus engendered within 
 him gave a new tone to his handsome face. " If such 
 blood flows in my veins, I owe it to the memory of my 
 parents that I should have place in Brittany. Good 
 mercy ! what a field is opened before me. What shall 
 the end be !" 
 
 " I trust that it will be well. At all events, my boy, 
 it cannot be worse than it is." 
 
 " Ah, my lord, you forget that the pain of the fall is 
 according to the height attained." 
 
 " Upon my soul, Conrad, I do not think there is 
 danger of a fall. If I had thought so, I should not have 
 led you thus far. I have no disposition to trifle with 
 such feelings as yours." 
 
 "My lord duke, you must have learned something 
 concerning my parentage." 
 
 " What I have told you." 
 
 " But have you learned nothing more ?" 
 
 Casimir saw the young man's drift. 
 
 " You must not question me too closely, Conrad ; for 
 I do not wish to lead you beyond what is substantial. I 
 have not learned from Francisco the names of your 
 parents ; and if I have a suspicion, it is one which I had 
 better not speak at present." 
 
 "Let me seek Francisco and Marguerite at once," 
 said our hero. 
 
 " Not yet," replied the duke. " If you will leave the 
 matter in my hands, I will sift it to the bottom ; and I 
 make no hesitation in assuring you that the truth can- 
 not be kept from me. I know where to look, and I 
 know whom to question. In fact, I have a good clue to 
 the whole labyrinth. Will you leave it with me ?" 
 
 " Of course, sir, I cannot refuse." 
 •i, "Certainly you cannot. And now, let me answer 
 
134 '^^^ Fortunes of Conrad. ": 
 
 r 
 
 your first question ; or, rather, let me make an addition 
 to the answer I have already given you. I have told 
 you that I neither consented nor refused. And — " 
 
 " There is no need," interrupted Conrad, " I know 
 what you would say. If it is proved that I am of gentle' 
 blood, and my identity can be established, I may sue 
 for Rosaline's hand. But if — " 
 
 " Stop, my boy ; you have gone far enough. If your 
 nobility by birth is proved, you may ask Rosaline to be 
 your wife. If your name must'remain forever as it is — 
 if we gain nothing in our search — you must not sue for 
 my child's hand without my permission. Let it rest 
 there." 
 
 " It shall be so, my lord." 
 
 Conrad arose, and moved towards the door ; but his 
 step was reluctant ; and finally h'e stopped and turned. 
 
 " My lord, you must allow me to ask you one more 
 question. When will you commence your investiga- 
 tion ?'• 
 
 "As soon as possible, my son. I shall make _ my 
 arrangements to-morrow." 
 
 With this our hero bowed and withdrew. 
 
 " By heavens !" cried the duke, when he was alone, 
 " I cannot be mistaken in this. Pshaw ! is it Hot as plain 
 as the sun at noonday ! If my cousin were back upon 
 the earth, and should present me the boy as his son, my 
 convictions could not be stronger ! I can solve the 
 problem, and I will do it." 
 
 In the meantime Conrad repaired to his own apart- 
 ment, where he spent a full hour in perplexing study 
 and reflection ; and even after he pressed his pillow, 
 sleep was for a long time kept at bay by the wonderful 
 fancies that haunted his imagination. 
 
 The following morning was the sixth since the 
 departure of Francisco and Marguerite, and when Con- 
 
The Duke Speaks Plainly. 135 
 
 rad arose, and descended to the court, he felt as strong 
 and well as he ever felt in his life. In a little while the 
 duke joined him, with a greeting such as a father might 
 have given to a son. 
 
 " My dear boy, you are looking as well as ever." 
 
 " Aye, my lord ; and I feel as well." 
 
 " i am going to Saint Aubin to-morrow." 
 
 " To see Francisco and Marguerite ?" said Conrad, 
 with sudden interest. 
 
 " Not exactly, I shall probably see them ; but my 
 especial business is to see the old abbot. You can go 
 with me, or you can remain here." 
 
 " I shall do just as you wish, my lord." 
 
 " Then we will decide during the day. Something 
 may transpire to assist us in our determination." 
 
 And something did transpire, though not such a thing 
 as the duke had counted upon. 
 
 Towards noon Conrad met Rosaline in the garden, 
 She gave him her hand with a smile, and he raised it to 
 his lips. She spoke first of the conference which he had 
 held with her father. 
 
 "And does the thought please you, Rosaline?" he 
 asked, still holding her hand, and gazing down into 
 her face. 
 
 " O, how can it be otherwise ?" she replied, in earnest, 
 
 tender tones. 
 
 " But, dearest, we must not hope too much. Has your 
 
 father told you all ?" 
 
 "I think he has." 
 
 « Then you know that my fate hangs upon a brittle 
 thread Last night the star of promise shone brightly; 
 but at times, since then, it has beamed more dimly. 
 You know that I love you-that I hold you precious 
 above all other earthly things. And I believe that 
 your heart — " 
 
136 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Is all your own," said the beautiful girl, resting her 
 head upon his shoulder. 
 
 " And yet," cried Conrad, winding his arm about her, 
 and pressing her to his bosom, " our fate hangs upon, 
 something in the future which is fearfully uncertain. 
 Though I clasp you now to my throbbing bosom, and 
 tell you of my love, the time may not be far distant 
 when such will not be my right — when the blessed 
 privilege will be denied to me." 
 
 " No, no, — O, no !" cried Rosaline, starting from his 
 shoulder, and gazing again into his face. " That can- 
 not be. My father will not. be cruel. He hopes that . 
 he may find in you the son of a noble house. But if — 
 if—" ■ ; 
 
 " If he does not find ,that," interrupted Conrad, " he 
 will turn from me, and lead you away with him." 
 
 " No, no, Conrad — I do not think so. O, I know he 
 will not do that. If such had been his intention he 
 would not have allowed us to cherish such hopes as he 
 knows must now fill our souls. If he even finds that 
 you have an honorable name — " 
 
 " An honorable name !" repeated Conrad. 
 
 " Yes — if he finds no more than that, he will surely 
 allow us to live and love." 
 
 Conrad started as though an asp had stung him ; and 
 his thoughts found words before he was aware what he 
 said. 
 
 " And if he finds it otherwise ? Why was my name 
 hidden ? Why was my birth thrown into the gloorti ? 
 Why did my mother send me away, and bind my guar- 
 dian by an oath to keep the thing a secret forever? 
 Heavens! What if there should be found a stain upon 
 the name I am entitled to bear ! What if my mother 
 hid me away from the world in mercy ! What if — " 
 
 " Hush !" cried Rosaline, clinging to his arm, and 
 
The Duke Speaks Plainly ' 137 
 
 trembling like an aspen. " Do not think of such 
 things." 
 
 " How can I help thinking of them ? O, Rosaline, in 
 this hour, when I realize how much of joy and promise, 
 depends upon the result of the coming investigation, 
 and how much of mortal woe may follow thereafter, 
 my fear finds an enemy in every corner, and I almost 
 shrink from the ordeal." 
 
 "Do you shrink when you think what may be 
 gained ?" 
 
 " No, loved one ; 'tis when I think what I may lose !" 
 
 " My heart's best love you already have," said the 
 maiden, reaching her arm about his neck ; " and no 
 power on earth can take it from you. I know you only 
 as the Conrad who saved me from ruin ; and in the 
 time to come I will know you only at? the brave man 
 whom I fondly and truly love. Let come what will, my 
 heart cannot be turned from you." 
 
 " Blessed one !" 
 
 They were startled by the clatter of horses' hoofs 
 ,4ipon the bridge, and shortly afterwards they saw a 
 troop of armed men ride into the court. 
 
 " Who can they be ?" queried our hero. " I think I 
 have never seen those uniforms before." 
 
 « I know them," replied Rosaline. " They are of the 
 royal guards." 
 
 " Are tliey the king's troops ?" 
 , « Yes— members of his own guard. And they must 
 have come lately from Vannes." 
 
 "They must be upon some important mission," sug- 
 gested our hero. 
 
 Rosaline had no doubt of it. , ■, -, 
 
 " For " pursued the mountaineer, " the royal guard do 
 not go abroad except on business for the king." 
 
^o 
 
 8 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " I think it is so. All — see. My father goes forth to 
 meet them. We shall soon know what they want." 
 
 Something like a shudder passed through Conrad's 
 frame ; for, with the coming of the royal guard came, 
 to him, a presentiment of evil ! 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SIR PHILIP DE SAVENAY. 
 
 The duke had been informed of the approach of the 
 coming troop, and he reached the court in season to 
 welcome the leader as wasTaefitting one in his station. 
 
 Sir Philip de Savenay was the leader in question, and 
 he was followed by twenty stout guardsmen, all well 
 armed and mounted. Sir Philip was an old soldier, 
 whose gray hair and grizzled moustache showed the 
 bleaching of time and exposure ; and, as captain of the 
 Royal Guard, he was the most important military officer 
 in the kingdom. He possessed a powerful frame, and 
 his sword was one of the best in Brittany. 
 
 " My good Sir Philip," said the duke, as the captain 
 dismounted, " you visit me with a gallant array of the 
 royal force." 
 
 " Yes," replied de Savenay, with a smile ; " the king 
 likes that his captain should have good company." 
 
 " Do you go beyond Rennes ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell, my lord. I am on business for the 
 king, and I must travel until I find that of which I am 
 in search." 
 
 "And you have stopped here to rest. Good, my dear; 
 
Sir Philip de Savenay. 139 
 
 Sir Philip. The dinner hour is close at hand^ and you 
 and your men are most welcome." 
 
 " Not entirely for rest have we stopped at your castle, 
 my lord," said Sir Philip, with a slight show of uneasi- 
 ness. " The fact is, I have been sent to arrest a man 
 whom the king desires much to see." 
 
 " Ah, — and did you think to find him here ?" 
 
 " I was directed to inquire here, my lord." 
 
 " Who is the man thus noticed by his majesty ?" 
 
 " He is named Conrad — ^by some called Conrad du 
 Nord." 
 
 The "fluke changed color, and his fingers worked ner- 
 vously in the folds 6i his doublet. 
 
 " Are you sent to arrest this man as a prisoner ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " By order of the king ?" 
 
 "Yes. I received the order from the king's own 
 mouth." 
 
 " Do you know why he is arrested ?" 
 
 " By my life, I think there^ is reason enough if one 
 half the complaints against him are true." 
 
 " ■\yho has made these complaints ?" 
 ' " Prince Bertrand." 
 
 " Upon my soul," cried Casimir, with extreme bitter- 
 ness, " the prince is an oracle. Of course he is not to 
 be disbelieved." 
 
 " You will temember, my lord duke," said de Savenay, 
 proudly, "that I come not from the prince. 1 do not 
 
 serve him." 
 
 " Pardon me, Sir Philip. In expressing my opmion of 
 the son of our unfortunate king, I meant no reflection 
 upon the character of your present service. Conrad du 
 
 Nord is my friend, and he is even now Ah— here 
 
 be is, within sound of our voices." 
 
140 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 The young man would have drawn near ; but the 
 duke motioned for him to remain where he was. 
 
 " By Saint Michael !" exclaimed de Savenay, after he 
 had viewed our hero, "he is a most proper appearing 
 youth. He does not look like a cutthroat." 
 
 " Like a cutthroat, de Savenay ? What mean you ?" 
 
 " I think the prince accuses him of some foul butcher- 
 ies. It is said that he killed Goliath, and Baptiste, and 
 Adolphe." 
 
 " So he did," teturned the duke. 
 
 " That could not have been done in any fair manner." 
 
 " It was done fairly. Sir Philip. And, furthermore, I 
 am able to inform you that Conrad was the : party 
 attacked. You look astonished. So I was astonished 
 when I first heard the story ; but when I came to know 
 the youth, my astonishment was changed to admiration. 
 I saw him disarm my captain with perfect ease." 
 
 " Did he disarm Nicolas ?" 
 
 " Yes, readily." 
 
 " I am filled with won|der, my lord. The story of 
 such exploits must be interesting." 
 
 " After dinner. Sir Philip, you shall hear it." 
 
 " Pardon me, my lord duke. My orders are explicit, 
 and I must obey them. I must arrest the young man." 
 
 " You would not arrest him against my will ?" 
 
 De Savenay started and looked into the duke's face. 
 
 "Surely, my lord, you would .^not oppose the royal 
 order." 
 
 " Not exactly. Sir Philip. I have a better plan for all 
 concerned. I will accompany you to Vannes, and Con- 
 rad du Nord shall go with me. 1 will myself present 
 him to the king." 
 
 :De Sayenay reflected a few moments,^ and then 
 replied : 
 
Sir Philip de Savenay. 141 
 
 " If such is your decision, made upon your own 
 responsibility, I have nothing further to say." 
 
 " Such is my decision ; and I take the responsibility." 
 
 " And now, my lord duke, there is one thing more : 
 There are two old people — a man and a woman — who 
 have lived with this youth " 
 
 " Were you ordered to arrest them ?" 
 
 " Not exactly to arrest them ; but I was ordered to 
 find out where they were." 
 
 " Did the king so order ?" 
 
 " No," replied the captain, biting his moustache. " The 
 prince gave me that bit of duty." 
 
 " Let me advise you, my dear Sir Philip, to give the 
 prince's orders the go-by. He has nothing to do with 
 the captain of the royal guard." 
 
 " But," said de Savenay, with a dubious shrug of his 
 shoulders, " ere long the prince will be king ; the royal 
 guard will be his guard ; and he will then have the 
 power to punish — " 
 
 " Hold, Sir Philip ]" cried the duke, striking his 
 clenched hand upon his bosom. " You forget the blood 
 that runs in the veins of our nobles. When Bertrand is 
 king, he will conduct himself as becomes a king, or his 
 crown may tumble from his head? By the eternal 
 throne of heaven ! if he " 
 
 " My lord " 
 
 " Don't interrupt me, Sir Philip. I know what I say, 
 and I am responsible for it. And, furthermore, the 
 time may not be far distant when I will speak these very 
 words to Bertrand himself. Do you think the King of 
 Brittany would dare to make war upon the Duke of 
 Rennes ? I swear to you, the deed would break the 
 sceptre and shatter the throne to atoms ?„ My cousin of 
 Anjou would like to see some such work." 
 
142 The fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 De Savenay bent his head, and scraped the pavement 
 with his foot. 
 
 " My lord," he finally said, in a careful tone, " you can 
 speak your thoughts, for one third of the realm is under 
 your command ; but I must be more circumspect. The 
 prince gave me no direct order. He simply bade me, 
 if I found the old people of whom we "have spoken, 
 to " 
 
 " To what. Sir Philip ? You need not hesitate to 
 .speak plainly before me." 
 
 " To send some of my men with them to the castle of 
 Montevere." 
 
 The duke bit his lips and shook his head. 
 
 " Francisco and Marguerite are not here ; nor are 
 they near here. When the king wants them I will give 
 them up. Is that satisfactory ?" 
 
 "If the old people are not with Master Conrad," 
 replied de Savenay, " I shall not trouble myself to find 
 them, as I have no orders from the king concerning them ; 
 but touching the youth " 
 
 " I will present him to the king myself," said the duke. 
 " And now let us adjourn to the castle, where we can 
 rest while we talk." 
 
 The old knight was conducted to a comfoftableapart- 
 ment, where some rare old wine was placed at his dis- 
 posal ; while his followers were taken care of in the 
 quarters of the castle guard. After this the duke 
 sought Conrad, whom he found in the great hall. 
 
 The young man had heard most of the conversation 
 between Sir Philip and his host, so there was nothing 
 to be explained to him concerning the captain's busi- 
 ness. 
 
 " Of course," he said, " the prince has lodged a cord- 
 plaint against me, and the king wishes to examine into - 
 the matter for himself." ' 
 
Sir Philip de Savenay^ t\% 
 
 " I am not very sure that such was the plan," returned 
 Casimir, shaking his head. "The prince entered a 
 complaint, and the king sent to have you arrested ; but 
 I doubt if it was intended that the king should hear 
 your defence. It would be a very easy matter for Ber- 
 trand to take possession of you as soon as you were 
 delivered up by the captain. But, my dear boy, the 
 villain shall be circumvented. I will deliver you up 
 with my own hands ; and I will retain you in custody." 
 
 " I see," said Conrad, bowing his head as he reflected. 
 " Tf I could have been taken to Vannes by Sir Philip, I 
 . should have been thi'own into prison, and thus fallen 
 directly into the prince's power." 
 
 « Exactly." 
 
 " But you can keep me from prison ?" 
 
 "Yes. I shall become responsible to the king for 
 your -safe keeping ; and I may keep you where I please 
 so that I am able to produce you when he calls. Of 
 course, the prince will be enraged, and he will employ 
 every means in his power to get his hands upon you ; 
 and we shall have to be very careful, and keep a con- 
 stant guard ; but of all this we can converse after we 
 get there. And now come with me and see the captain. 
 He is a good man, and you will lose nothing by gaining 
 his friendship." 
 
 They entered the apartment where Sir Philip sat, 
 and the duke introduced his youthful friend to the old 
 soldier. Conrad, when he canle near to the stem-vis- 
 aged man, and gained a full view of the battle-scarred 
 face, conceived a deep reverence for him. He loved 
 that kind of men, for of such was his old tutor ; and he 
 believed that such men were inclined to be true and 
 honest. De Savenay must have read the youth's 
 thoughts, for he smiled, and the grasp of his hand was 
 warm and friendly. 
 
144 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Sir Philip," said the duke, after they had seated 
 themselves, " you are a knight, and you wear the cross 
 of Saint Maurice ; and as a soldier you are my equal in 
 rank and privilege. Holding you in this light, I am 
 about to tell you a story which I meant to tell only to 
 the king ; and when you have heard it you will know 
 why I choose to go with you to Vannes." 
 
 And thereupon Casimir related to the captain all the 
 circumstances connected with the abduction of Rosaline, 
 and her subsequent rescue by Conrad. He told it all 
 just as it had happened, plainly setting forth all the 
 villainy of the prince, and generously recounting the 
 brave and brilliant deeds of the young mountaineer. 
 
 " And now, my good Sir Philip, what think you ?" 
 
 Sir Philip did not at first know what to think. He 
 was not much astonished at the bold wickedness of 
 Bertrand; but the deeds of Conrad filled him with 
 wonder. 
 
 " Do you blame me that I hesitated at first to deliver 
 this young man up as you at first demanded ?" asked 
 the duke. -- > 
 
 " By my faith, no," cried the old captain, smiting his 
 fist upon his thigh. " I swear to you, by the cross I 
 wear, I would not take him to Vannes without you !" 
 
 " Right, my good Sir Philip," echoed Casimir. " I 
 shall not only go with him to Vannes, but I will care for 
 him after he is there. If the prince thinks to gain any- 
 thing by this movement, he is mistaken." 
 
 " But," said de Savenay turning to Conrad, " I do not 
 understand how you have contrived to make such pro- 
 ficiency in the use of arms." 
 
 " In the first place. Sir Philip," replied our hero, 
 modestly, " I have had one of the best tutors that the 
 country could afford. I have loved the exercise ; and I 
 have followed it up in practice without tiring. And, ; 
 
Sir Philip de Savenay. 145 
 
 furthermore, Heaven has blessed me with a goodly share 
 
 of strength and " 
 
 " And true courage," added de Savenay, as the speaker 
 hesitated. " But I should have thought that your old 
 tutor would have grown tired of the exercise, if you did 
 not." 
 
 " No, sir. He was a man of your own stamp. He 
 loved the play, and his arm knew no weariness." 
 
 " Aye," interrupted the duke ; " and I'll wager my 
 best lance that you remember him well. Sir Philip. His 
 name is Francisco." 
 
 " I remember one of that name," said the captain ; 
 " and he was my friend. We fought side by side in the 
 battle where Duke Charles was slain. I can call to mind 
 no other." 
 
 "There would be no need of it if you could," replied 
 the duke, smiling. " Conrad's tutor was in the service 
 of Charles, and was, for some years, his chosen hench- 
 man." 
 
 " And is this the old man I was instructed to convey 
 to the Castle of Montevere ?" 
 " The very same." 
 
 " Then, by my knighthood ! let the prince beware !" 
 Sir Philip started to his feet, and smote his hands 
 together. " I tell you, my lord duke, I am with you,' 
 heart and soul. Be it mine to help you in the protec- 
 tion of those who may need our services !" 
 
 He extended his hand, and Casimir grasped it quickly 
 and warmly. 
 
 " My dear Sir Philip, I accept the pledge ; and ip 
 return I give you my assurance that I will stand by you 
 if you are brought to trouble. But I do not apprehend 
 any trouble. I think i shall very easily bring the king 
 to the work of justice, so far, at least, as our friends are 
 concerned," 
 
146 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Dinner was announced, and when the meal had been 
 eaten, the duke commenced to make preparations for 
 his departure. Conrad was forced to accept a suit of 
 clothes such as a gentleman might wear at court. The 
 small clothes were of tan-colored silk ; the rest of scar- 
 let, faced with white ; with a doublet of fine blue velvet - 
 trimmed with silver. His cap was of the same material 
 as his doublet, looped upon the left side with a gold 
 button, and bearing an ostrich feather. His heavy- 
 leathern belt was replaced by a scarf of silk and silver 
 webbing, to which his trusty sword was suspended. In 
 this guise he presented himself in the hall, and when 
 Sir Philip saw him, he started as though he had met a 
 long lost friend. 
 
 " Mercy !" he cried. 
 
 " What is it ?" asked the duke, drawing the captain 
 away to the door. 
 
 " Have you marked that man's face, my lord ?" 
 
 " Surely I have. He has been here several days." . 
 
 " But— see— " 
 
 "Hush! There is no need of attracting his atten- 
 tion." 
 
 "But," pursued de Savenoy, in a lower tone, " I have 
 seen him before. He is no mountaineer. This garb 
 brings forth his true character." 
 
 "Ah,— and who is he ?" 
 
 The captain bent his head with hard thought. 
 
 " I cannot now call him to mind. But — I cannot be ' 
 mistaken. Have I not seen him before ?" 
 
 ." I cannot tell as to that." 
 
 " In mercy's name, my lord, do not trifle with me. 
 Surely I cannot be a dupe to'bliild fancy. Who is he ?" 
 
 " Never mind now. Sir Philip. If you watch the 
 youth, do not let him know it ; and.if you read any^iing 
 definite in his face, come and inform me." 
 
Str Philip de Savenay. 147 
 
 The captain was not at all satisfied with this ; but, as 
 his host was otherwise engaged, he asked no more ques- 
 tions. 
 
 Rosaline was filled with alarm when she learned that 
 Sir Philip had come to arrest her lover ; but when her 
 father had explained the matter, she became more calm. 
 She met Conrad in one of the ante-rooms ; and when she 
 saw how bright and hopeful he looked, she put away 
 her fears. At first she did not notice the change in his 
 costtmie, for it improved him not a whit in her eyes.; 
 though, when she did discover it, she was glad that her 
 father had been so thoughtful. 
 
 ^•If you remain long in Vannes, I may. join you 
 there," she said, as'they walked towards the door ; " but 
 I hope it may not be so. I would rather you should 
 come back here." 
 
 " Let it be as it may," returned Conrad, " I hope we 
 shall not be long separated. Join your prayers with 
 mine, dearest, and Heaven may be merciful to us. Ah, 
 here comes your father. I must bid you adieu." 
 
 He pressed his lips upon her pure white brow ; then 
 murmured a blessing ; and as she responded with words 
 of prayer and promise, the duke joined them. 
 
 " Courage, my children," he said. " I have seen very 
 dark clouds in my day ; but I have never yet seen any 
 that the sun could not dissipate." 
 
 Thus speaking, he kissed his daughter, and then led 
 Conrad out into the court, where the horses were in 
 waiting. 
 
 It was a stout troop that rode forth from the old 
 castle, for the duke took a score of his own men-at-arms 
 to bear him company. 
 
 At the end of an hour Sir Philip touched the duke 
 upon the arm. 
 *' My lord, I have read that face !" 
 
148 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Ah !" 
 
 " Yes, — I am sure of it." 
 
 " And you know the youth ?" 
 
 " Nay ; but I know whose features he bears. By 
 heaven ! the counterpart is exact. It is — " 
 
 " Hush ! Give it not to other ears." 
 
 The old soldier whispered the name, with his lips 
 close to the duke's cheek. 
 
 Casimir smiled and nodded. 
 
 " Am I not right ?" 
 
 "Time will tell." 
 
 " But, my lord—" 
 
 " Easy, Sir Philip. I can tell you nothing more. In 
 the time to come we may find a key to the mystery." 
 
 The old knight resumed his place at the head of hfs 
 troop, ever and anon turning a furtive glance upon 
 Conrad du Nord, and .then shaking his head with an 
 expression of sore perplexity. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THEOBALD. 
 
 Theobald, king of Brittany, was in the chamber 
 where he gave audience to his own immediate 
 officers. He was sixty years of age, and looked to be 
 ten years older. His tall form was bent, and his limbs 
 trembled when he walked. The majesty of his man- 
 hood was gone, and much trouble had worn his dis-~ 
 position down to fretfulness and ill-temper. One thing 
 could not fail to arrest the attention of the careful 
 beholder of that royal face. The marks of doubt and 
 
Theobald. 1 49 
 
 fear were stamped thereon too plainly to be mistaken. 
 And what had the king to fear ? 
 
 " Ponce," he said, turning to the page who attended 
 him, " I hear footsteps." 
 
 " Yes, sire. I think it is the prince." 
 
 " Look and see." 
 
 The boy went to a small window that commanded a 
 view of the corridor, and reported that it was the prince. 
 
 " You may leave me, Ponce ; but come back when 
 the prince is gone." 
 
 The page withdrew, and shortly afterwards the prince 
 entered, looking more sinister than usual. He cast a 
 quick glance at the king, and his gray eye brightened 
 with snake-like lustre when he noticed how those aged 
 limbs quaked and shook. 
 
 "Good morning, my royal father," said Bertrand, 
 bowing very low, and pressing his hand upon his bosom. 
 " I am glad to see you looking so well." 
 
 " Do I look well, my son ?" 
 
 " Indeed you do." 
 
 " Then Hook better than I feel.' 
 
 " How do you feel ?" 
 
 " I am weak and faint, and my eye grows dim.' 
 
 " Can you not see plainly ?" 
 
 "Yes — ^yes — I can see weU enough; but the light 
 pains me." 
 
 " Pshaw ! You are imaginative, father. You are as 
 strong as you were ten years ago, if you would only 
 think so. Why, you are only sixty. You have a full 
 score of years yet in store for you. Look at Sir Philip 
 de Savenay. He is five years older than you are ; and 
 I doubt if there is a man in the realm who could even 
 now stand before his stout arm." ' 
 
 « Ah_speaking of Sir Philip," said the king, "puts me 
 
150 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 in mind of the mission upon which' we sent him. Has 
 he returned yet ?" 
 
 " Not yet ; but I think he will be here before noon; 
 And, my father, if you are not feeling very well, and 
 would avoid unnecessary labor, I will attend to his 
 report." 
 
 " If it is a capital case, my son, the king ought to give 
 it his attention." 
 
 " But we need not make a capital case of it at present.' 
 I will commit the prisoner, and then he can await your 
 pleasure." 
 
 " My son," said Theobald, with painful hesitation, " if 
 such a thing is to be done, it must not be known. It is 
 the duty of the king to attend to such matters." 
 
 " Not always, sire," replied Bertrand, readily. " The 
 king may be seriously indisposed ; and if such be the 
 case, you would not have the wheels of government 
 stop." 
 
 " No, my son ; but, in such a case, important matters 
 could be postponed." 
 
 " That is just it, father. In this case we simply post- 
 pone the final trial ; and, since you are particular, I will 
 tell you my object. I fear that there may be some 
 deeply -laid conspiracy among those mountaineers, and 
 I am determined, if possible, to search it out. To this 
 end I would have the arrest of this Conrad kept as quiet 
 as possible. If I can have charge of him, I will use 
 him very carefully ; and if there be any conspiracy, I 
 will sift it to the bottom." 
 
 " Let it be as you will, Bertrand. Only you must be 
 judicious. We cannot afford to transgress the laws of 
 the realm." 
 
 A bitter answer was upon the lips of the prince, but 
 he restrained himself, and smilingly promised his father 
 that all should go well, Then he took a bit of parch- 
 
Theobald. 1 5 1 
 
 ment from his pocket, and laid it upon the table before 
 the king. 
 
 " If you will sign that, sire, the whole business will be 
 properly arranged. I will take the prisoner, and use 
 him for the good of the crown." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Theobald, drawing the parch- 
 ment towards him. 
 
 " It is a simple order to your captain, instructing him 
 to deliver his prisoner into my hands." 
 
 " Is there naore than one ?" asked the king, running 
 his feye over the order. 
 
 " More than one what ?" 
 
 " More than one prisoner." 
 
 " Why do you ask that ?" 
 
 " Because I see that you have written \\. prisoners!' 
 
 " Have I ? O, a mere slip of the pen. But it makes 
 no difference. I did not notice it before." 
 
 The king, thinking nothing more of what might be a 
 harmless mistake, took a pen, andy with a hand pain- 
 fully tremulous, signed the order. The prince took it 
 as soon as the royal name had been attached, and put it 
 away in his pocket ; and shortly afterwards he left the 
 chamber. 
 
 When his son had gone, the king called his page and 
 directed that his breakfast should be brought in. The 
 meal was simple, consisting of bread and goat's milk, 
 and a couple of eggs. When it had been placed before 
 him he sent hi& page away again, and then went to one 
 of thfe ante-rooms, and called to a small dog that lay 
 sleeping upon a mat in the sunlight. The animal leaped 
 quickly up at his master's call, and came frisking and 
 jumping about him with evident delight. 
 
 " Ah, my poor Fides, you are at least my friend," said 
 Theobald, patting the dog upon the head. " You I can 
 
152 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 trust ; and yet to what a base use I am forced to put 
 you. Ah — this is but a poor life, after all !" , 
 
 As the king spoke, he broke his bread into small 
 pieces, mixing difEerent parts of the loaf together, a 
 portion of which he put into a silver basin, and poured 
 some of the milk upon it ; and this mess he placed 
 upon the floor for his dog to eat. Thus had the 
 animal eaten for a long time, and when his meal was 
 offered, he made quick work in disposing of it. After 
 the dog had devoured the bread and milk he spent 
 nearly half-an-hour at play, and at the end of that time 
 the king sat down to his breakfast, beiiTg satisfied that 
 the food which harmed not his dog wotild work no harm 
 to him. As for the eggs, he found the shells perfect, 
 and the contents fresh ; and he eat them, as was his 
 wont, beaten up in his milk. 
 
 " We are safe for this time," he said, allowing the dog 
 to leap up into his lap, and lick the crumbs from the 
 table. " Alas ! what a life is this ? O, my poor Fides, 
 did people know what use I made of you, they would 
 not envy me the crown that galls my brow. But I can- 
 not bear it much longer. Once I prayed to God that he 
 would give me an heir to my throne — I spent a whole 
 year in earnest prayer. O, my sainted wife, as you look 
 down from the dim world of spirits, can you not pity 
 the poor wretch you left behind ? Would to heaven ' 
 the boy had died instead — " 
 
 He was startled from his reverie by'the sound of 
 footsteps in the corridor, and hastily arising from the 
 ' table, he put the dog back into the ante-room, and closed 
 the door. 
 
 When the prince left the royal presence he went down 
 into the court-yard of the palace, where some of his fol- 
 lowers were in attendance. Poins was there, and upon 
 him he called, 
 
Theobald. 153 
 
 " Poins, do you know tlie way to the top of yonder 
 tower ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " From the top of that tower you can look out upon 
 the Redon road. Sir Philip, when he returns, will come 
 that way. I would have early notice of his approach. 
 Do you understand me ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You will find me here when you have a report to 
 make. Away, and keep your eyes open." 
 
 The sun was but little past the meridian when Poins 
 came down from the tower with the intelligence that 
 the captain of the royal guard was approaching the 
 city. 
 
 " Has he the prisoner with him ?" asked the prince. 
 
 " I could not tell," replied the man-at-arms. " I plainly 
 saw Sir Philip, riding at the head of the troop, but a 
 cloud of dust obscured much of the rest." 
 
 " He must have found him, or he would not have 
 come back so soon. We will go out. Let my men be 
 called." 
 
 In a little while, at the head of a dozen men, the prince 
 rode forth from the palace yard, and just in the outskirts 
 of the town he met Sir Philip de Savenay riding some 
 distance in advance of his troop. 
 
 " Ah, my dear de Savenay, well met !" cried 
 Bertrand, as the captain approached him. " Is the pris- 
 oner safe ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 "Good! You will have no further trouble with 
 
 him." 
 
 " He has been no trouble to me, I assure you." 
 
 " I suppose not. The royal guard is not a thing to te 
 
 openly resisted. But I will relieve you, my good Sir 
 
 Philip." 
 
154 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 " I will take the prisoner into my own hands." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " The young mountaineer is with you ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then I will take him." 
 
 " But I must report to the king." 
 
 " There is no need of that. Here is an order for you." 
 
 De Savenay took the parchment, and when he had 
 read it, he said : 
 
 " I have no power to answer that order, my lord. 
 Conrad du Nord is not my prisoner." 
 
 " How ? Did you not tell me that you had him 
 safely?" 
 
 " I told you that he was safe ; but he is not under my 
 charge. Casimir of Rennes — Ah, . here comes the 
 dulie himself." 
 
 " How now," demanded the duke, riding up to the 
 spot. " Ah, my lord, is this you .'" 
 
 " Aye,'' cried the prince ; " and I think we are well 
 met. Sir Philip informs me that you have charge of a 
 certain youth named Conrad." 
 
 " Such is the case," replied the duke. 
 
 " Then you will read this order, sir." 
 
 " This order is not addressed to me," said Casimir, 
 after he had read it. 
 
 " But you see the purport of it. The prisoner is to be 
 delivered up to me." 
 
 " My dear prince," returned the duke, witS a calm 
 pride, " I have nothing to do with orders addressed to 
 the king's ofiBcers. I am on my way now to see the 
 king, and if he has orders for me, he will deliver them." 
 
 " Beware, my lord duke ! I am not to be trifled with. 
 You see and understand the royal will. I demand of 
 you the prisoner !" 
 
Theobald. 155 
 
 The duke's lip quivered, and his hand involuntarily 
 dropped towards the pommel of his sword ; but with a 
 mighty effort he restrained himself, and made a motion 
 to turn his horse. 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Bertrand, growing red with pas- 
 sion, " will you not answer me ?" 
 
 "Not now — not here. I have nothing to do with 
 you." 
 
 " By the gods !" retorted the prince, gnashing his 
 teetii, " answer me, or I'll strike you where you sit !" 
 
 So foolish a speech, instead of increasing the duke's 
 anger, filled him with disgust. He raised himself in his 
 stirrups, and bent upon the plotting prince a look of 
 supreme contempt. 
 
 " Young man," he said, in a tone so low that only Sir 
 Philip heard him beside, "the king of Brittany dare 
 not insult the Duke of Rennes ! Then let the prince be 
 careful !" 
 
 As he spoke he drew his rein, and moved away. The 
 prince drew his sword half out from its scabbard, and 
 would have dashed after him had not the captain inter- 
 fered. 
 
 " Hold, your highness ! You know not what you do." 
 
 " Back' Sir Philip. By the eternal gods ! I'll not be 
 put upon by him ! Back, I say !" 
 
 " Nay, my lord, I cannot permit it." 
 
 " Do you dare to oppose me ?" 
 
 " I dare to do my duty ; and when you find time to 
 reflect yon will not blame me." 
 
 At this juncture Poins made bold to pluck his master 
 
 by the sleeve. 
 
 " My lord," whispered the faithful follower, "you will 
 spoil all. The duke is not the man to meet thus. Take 
 your own time and trust to fortune." 
 
 Bertrand, with the first effort of reason, saw that he. 
 
156 The Fortunes of Qonrad. '' 
 
 was injuring his own cause ; and, though the altema^ 
 tive was, to him, a most painful and humiliating one, he 
 summoned strength enough to overcome the outward 
 passion. He struggled a few moments, like one who 
 chokes, and then turned to the old knight with a smile 
 upon his face ; but it was a wicked, fiendish smile. * 
 
 " Sir Philip, you recall me to your senses. I will suffer 
 the affront for the present. Heaven knows I have no 
 disposition to interfere with the affairs of the king's 
 officers." 
 
 And with this he rode away, followed by his men-at- 
 arms. 
 
 After tiie prince had gone, the captain fell back and 
 spoke with the duke. 
 
 " My lord," he said, " we must beware of Prince Ber- 
 trand. Tartarian fires are burning in his bosoni, and 
 fiendish schemes are forming in his brain. He has gone 
 away from us now ; but he has only withdrawn, as the 
 tiger does, for a more deadly attack. I know him well." 
 
 " You do not know him better than I do, Sir Philip. 
 But I think we may prove a match for him. You will 
 not shrink from your duty through fear of his' ven- 
 geance ?" 
 
 " No—never." 
 
 " And how is it with these men who accompany you ?" 
 
 " I cannot answer for all of them, my lord. Most of 
 them are stern and true ; but there may be one or two 
 who would serve the prince." 
 
 " I had supposed as much. But, never njind. I fear 
 not the result. Let us hurry on, for I would reach the 
 king before yonder villain gains too much of his ear." 
 
 The troop started into a brisk gallop, and ere long had 
 halted within the court of the royal palace. The duke 
 saw the followers of the prince just dismounting ; but 
 the prince himself was not with them. 
 
Theobald. 157 
 
 " Sir Philip," said Casimir, " we must lose no time. 
 Do you lead the way, and I will follow. Come— the 
 mission is yours, and the king must be looking for you." 
 
 De Savenay waited not for a second bidding. He 
 gave a few directions to his men, and then turned 
 towards the palace. The duke drew the arm of Conrad 
 through his own, and followed. The captain of the royal 
 guard was the highest officer of the household, and no 
 one dared to stop him. He made his way to his own 
 private closet, which was close by the king's chamber, 
 where he found two of his subordinate officers on duty, 
 of whom he inquired if any one had lately passed into 
 the royal apartment. 
 
 One of them replied that the prince had just gone in. 
 
 " Then," said Sir PhiUp, turning to the duke, " we had 
 better leave Conrad here for the present." 
 
 Casimir saw the propriety of the arrangement, and at 
 once consented to it. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, addressing the officers on duty, 
 both of whom were well known to him, " this young man 
 is my friend. I leave him in your care ufltil I return." 
 
 They greeted our hero warmly, and promised to look 
 to his comfort. 
 
 Then Sir Philip passed on to the king's chamber, fol- 
 lowed by the duke. They found the prince there, and 
 he had already entered a complaint ; for the monarch, 
 as soon as he saw his captain, cried out : 
 
 " Ah, Sir Philip, how is this ? Do you trample upon 
 my authority ?" 
 
 " Not I, sire. Why do you ask that ?" 
 
 Theobald was about to answer, when he caught sight 
 
 of the duke. 
 
 " How ! Is this my cousin of Rennes ?" 
 
 " Yes sire," replied Casimir, advancing and saluting 
 
 the king respectfully. 
 
158 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " And to -ivliat kind stroke of fortune do I owe this 
 visit ?" 
 
 . " I will inform you in good season, sire. I think your 
 captain has some report to make." 
 
 " Aye, Sir Philip," cried the king ; " how is it ? Did 
 you Refuse to deliver up your prisoner according to, my 
 order ?" 
 
 " No, sire. I had no prisoner in my possession." 
 
 " How ? Have you not brought that bold moun- 
 taineer ?" 
 
 " Not I, sire. My lord the duke hath brought him ; 
 and he alone is responsible." 
 
 " Sire," spoke Casimir, as the king turned towards 
 him, "for reasons which I trust I can make good to 
 your majesty, I have brought Conrad du Nord under 
 my own guardianship. But I must crave a private 
 audience." 
 
 The prince stamped his foot and bit his lip. He was 
 angry ; and, had he given way -to his , passion, he would 
 have stormed most furiously ; but he did not do it. 
 With just such another effort as he had made only a 
 short time before, he swallowed his wrath, and hid his 
 clutching fingers within the folds of his doublet. He 
 knew that in an audience with the king, the duke and 
 the captain both had precedence of himself. 
 
 " My father," he said, with that same fiendish smile 
 lurking about the comers of his mouth, "since our 
 cousin of Rennes desires audience, I will withdraw." ' 
 And without daring to trust himself with further speech, ?; 
 he turned and strode from the apartment. 
 
 " By heaven !" whispered Sir Philip, into the duke's 
 ear, " the prince needs looking ^after. As true as you 
 live, there is some deadly mischief working in his 
 brain !" 
 
 " We will take care of him, never fear." 
 
The Prince Gets Ready for Work. 159 
 
 " Ah, my lord, you don't know him if you do not fear 
 him. I tell you he goes forth upon some fatal work. 
 If you would save your friend, you must watch the 
 prince !" 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE PRINCE GETS READY FOR WORK. 
 
 Prince Bertraiid did not stop on his way from the 
 royal chamber. He supposed that Conrad du Nord 
 might be in the palace — ^perhaps near to the king — ^but 
 he cared not to see him then. He had another plan in 
 his mind. In the court he found Poins, whom he called 
 apart from the rest of his followers, 
 
 "Did Thamar accompany Sir Philip to Rennes?" 
 asked the prince. 
 
 " He did," replied Poins. 
 
 " I think Thamar is devoted to me." 
 
 " You may depend upon him, my lord ; I will stake 
 my life." 
 
 " I am going to my own apartment. Send Thamar to 
 me. Convey the order to him privately, and bid him 
 make no demonstration of his coming." 
 
 Thamar was a stout, dark-visaged guardsman, who 
 had been recently promoted to the royal corps upon the 
 recommendation of the prince ; and when he received 
 the message which Poins brought, he hastened to obey. 
 He found Bertrand alone, in a closet adjacent to the 
 bed-chamber ; and it was easy to see, from his manner, 
 that he was anxious to please the heir to the throne of 
 
 Brittany. 
 " You have ridden far, and you may be seated," said 
 
i6o -The Fortunes of Conrad. ''\ 
 
 Bertrand, after the usual salutations had beeii 
 exchanged. 
 
 This was an honor, and the guardsman seemed well 
 pleased with it. 
 
 " Now, master Thamar, I wish you to give me your 
 attention." The prince could ^assume a tone of exceed- 
 ing frankness when he chose, and in such a tone he 
 now spoke. " It must be evident that ere many years — 
 perhaps ere many months — I shall be king of Brittany ; 
 and I am even now estimating the characters of those 
 who may be called to serve me in the best offices. 
 When I' recommended you to the station you now 
 occupy, I believed that you would honor the office ; 
 and, I am free to confess, I had another object in view : 
 I desired that you should become acquainted with the 
 routine of the business of the royal guard. Sir Philip 
 de Savenay is getting old ; and, when he gives up the 
 command, I would have good and efficient men from* 
 among whom to select his successor." 
 
 Thamar understood this, and his face glowed with 
 ambitious hope. He was a brave soldier, and had made 
 his niark on more than one battlefield ; and he did not 
 thihk it a great stretch of imagination to fancy himsdf 
 qualified to fill the office in question. 
 
 " My lord," he said, " I- already owe you much. You 
 have but to conimand me." 
 
 " I think you are honest." 
 
 " Try me. If I fail you, my life is at your disposal." 
 
 Bertrand smiled as he replied : ■ ' '" 
 
 "Your life is too valuable to be thrown carelessly 
 away ; so, I pray you, don't fail me. The time will 
 come when I may place my correcting hand upon the ^ 
 most powerful noble in the realm ; but at present I am 
 forced to use caution and circumspection. * I have 
 enemies, my good man, and some of them are high in 
 
The Prince Gets Ready for Work. i6i 
 
 power. They are jealous and uneeisy. They see me 
 'approaching the throne, and they fear for their safety 
 in the future ; and all plots aimed against me will 
 involve my friends in the evil result. But my triumph 
 is as certain as is the coming of another sun ; and 
 the only anxiety I have is to punish the evil doers. 
 You have been to Rennes with Sir Philip ?" 
 
 " I have, my lord." 
 
 " You know why the captain was sent ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Were you within earshot when Sir Philip made 
 known his business to the duke ?" 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " Tell me what you heard." 
 
 Thamar repeated the conversation which had taken 
 place between the duke and Sir Philip. 
 
 " Two things are evident," remarked Bertrand, after, 
 the guardsman had concluded : " Casimir has con- 
 ceived a friendship for this bold mountaineer ; and he 
 also knows where those two old people are, and means 
 to protect them." 
 
 " I should think so," replied Thamar. 
 
 " Perhaps you think something more," suggested the 
 prince, as he noticed a peculiar expression upon the 
 man's face, as though he had some opinions which he 
 found it difficult to contain. 
 
 " I do think something more, my lord ; but, after all, 
 I may be telling you nothing. Perhaps you know more 
 than I do." 
 
 « Explain yourself, Thamar." 
 
 " Does your highness know anything of this moun- 
 taineer beyond what appears upon the surface of 
 
 affairs?" . .^^ « _, 
 
 « I only suspect," replied Bertrand, startmg with sud- 
 den interest. " I suspect— aye, I know, that he cannot 
 
1 62 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 be the simple recluse lie professes to be. But I know; 
 nothing. What do you know ?" 
 
 " I cannot say that I know anything, my lord ; though 
 I think I have reason to suspect much. If you will 
 listen to me, I will give you the result of my olDserva-: • 
 tions." 
 
 " In the first place," said the guardsman, laying his 
 hands together, and speaking very carefully, " when I 
 had heard of the exploits of this Conrad, I made up my 
 mind that he was no ordinary man ; or, at all events, 
 that he was not a simple mountaineer. This conviction 
 led me to examine him very closely when I saw him, 
 and also to observe very narrowly all that transpired in 
 relation to him. I gained a position near t6 the captain, 
 and was able to hear much that was evidently not meant 
 to be heard. Why was 1;he proud duke so tender of the 
 j'outh ? Why did he allow him to walk in the garden 
 with his daughter ?" 
 
 " How ?" cried the prince. " Allow him wandering 
 alone with the Lady Rosaline ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord. I saw it with my own eyes. As we 
 rode into the court, this Conrad and the Lady Rosalioe 
 were coming up from the garden." 
 
 " By the mass, this is friendship with a vengeance ! 
 And I have no doubt that the lady seemed pleased with 
 the company." 
 
 " They were like two fondling doves,! my lord." 
 
 Bertrand ground his teeth, and stamped his foot till 
 the floor shook. 
 
 " Go on — go on," he said, as soon as he could control 
 himself. " By the eternal gods ! if I do not bring this 
 plotting interloper down ! But go on." 
 
 " Why was the proud duke so tender of the youth ? 
 Why did he allow him to walk in the garden with his 
 daughter? I asked myself these questions, my lord, 
 
The Prince Gets Ready for Work. 163 
 
 and I wanted .an answer to them. It was not mere 
 ' curiosity on my part. Far from it. Had I been alone 
 in the matter, these things would not have led unto a 
 bit of extra exertion. But I wished to serve my prince. 
 I knew that Conrad du Nord was your enemy, and I 
 meant, if possible, to know who and what he was. So I 
 watched. I knew that the old hermit, Francisco, and 
 the woman Marguerite, were not man and wife ; and^ I 
 judged that the youth was not their son. This brought 
 me to the idea that there might be some mystery about., 
 his birth. Would the proud duke of Rennes suffer his 
 only child to associate on terms of close intimacy with a 
 man of low birth, especially when that man was young, 
 brave, and handsome? It did not seem reasonable, 
 and I continued to watch. By and by the young man 
 came forth, clad in silk and velvet, and his presence was 
 noble and commanding. I saw that Sir Philip watched 
 him narrowly, and I soon made up my mind that the 
 old captain suspected as much as I did, if not more. 
 We had been on the road ah hour or so, and I was rid- 
 ing close by Sir Philip's side. Ever and anon he would 
 turn and study Conrad's features, and then mutter to 
 hiinself. By and by his countenance suddenly bright- 
 ened, and I heard these words drop from his lips — ' By 
 heaven, I know him now J" and when he had thus 
 exclaimed, he rode back and spoke with the duke. He 
 said, ' My lord, T have read that face.' Casimir uttered an 
 exclamation of surprise. , Then the captain added : 
 * Yes I am sure of it. ^ And you know the youth f said the 
 duke. Sir Philip answered : ' Nay j but I know whose 
 features he bears. By heaven 1 the counterpart is exact.' And 
 then he was going on to speak the name, when the duke 
 -stopped him, and bade him not to give the secret to 
 other ears. I could hear no more distinctly, though I 
 was able to understand that Casimer assented to the 
 
164 I he Fortunes of Conrad. ^ 
 
 captain's statement, but refused to give him further 
 information. After this I saw much to confirm me in 
 the belief that Conrad du Nord was of illustrious birth ; 
 that the duke knew all about it ; and that Sir Philip had 
 discovered just enough to fill him with amazement. 
 
 Bertrand moved not until the guardsman had ceased 
 speaking, and then he leaped from his chair and started 
 across the room. His hands were clutched ; his head 
 bent ; and his whole frame convulsed. At length he 
 stopped, and gazed into his informant's face: 
 
 " Thamar, have you told me all that you know ?" 
 
 " I think I have, my lord." 
 
 " You are a keen observer." 
 
 " I think I can read what is before me," said Thamar, 
 modestly. 
 
 " Aye," added the prince ; " and you can do more. If 
 I am not mistaken, you are the man I need to help me. 
 Adolphe and Goliath are both gone. Adolphe was a 
 faithful friend ; and if you will take his place, I shall 
 not fear to trust you." 
 
 " Shall I leave the royal guard, my lord ?" 
 
 " No. It will be better that you should remain there. 
 If you have a mind to devote all your energies to my 
 interests, that position will afford you numerous 
 advantages." 
 
 " I am of your opinion ; and you may trust me fully. 
 You have but to make known your wishes, and I will 
 obey, if it is within my power." 
 
 '^ I shall trust you, Thamar ; and if you continue to 
 serve me as you have begun, your reward shall be such 
 as a noble might crave. I have one thing further to 
 ask you : Did you learn where that old man and woman 
 were ?" 
 " No, my lord," 
 
The Prince Gets Ready for Work. 165 
 
 " Or did you hear anything that might lead you to 
 mistrust where they were ?" 
 
 " No. I only made up my mind that the duke knew 
 all about them." 
 
 " Very well. You may go to your troop, and keep 
 your eyes and ears open ; and be ready to answer any 
 signal I may send. If I want you I shall send Poins ; so 
 you will know what is wanted if you see him coming. 
 Of course I need not caution you against speaking of 
 the things about which we have been conversing." 
 
 " My lord, save in your presence, or at your order, I 
 know nothing at all of the things whereof we have 
 spoken." 
 
 " Good ! That will do. I thank you now, Thamar ; 
 and for the future you may count upon something more." 
 
 The guardsman left the room ; and, when he was* 
 gone, the prince sank into a chair, and rested his brow 
 upon his hands. He remained thus for some time, and 
 then arose, and commenced to pace the floor. 
 
 " If I can only find out the duke's full force," he 
 soliloquized, '' I can meet him on even ground. But he 
 • must work smartly if he thinks to carry his point. He 
 is my enemy, and will most assuredly tell to my father 
 the sad story of my running away with his daughter. 
 Bah ! what of that ! My poor old father will chide me, 
 and there will be an end of that matter, so far as the 
 king is concerned. But Casimir will remain my enemy ; 
 and I may count upon the hand of the Lady Rosaline 
 as lost to me. But this new lover. By the mass, I must 
 look into that secret. I think I owe him something ! 
 He kills my best men ; he robs me of my sweet prize ; 
 he draws his sword^ even .against myself ; he puts his 
 steel through Bernardo's body ; he bears away his old 
 guardians in safety ; and now he comes to court under 
 
1 66 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 the friendship of the powerful duke. By the gods ! I 
 must conquer him, or my self-respect is gone forever." 
 
 He sat down ^ain, and after studying awhile, he 
 slowly and thoughtfully said to himself, with his hands 
 laid calculatingly together : 
 
 " I will not hurry to make any open demonstration 
 against him. If it comes handy, he shall have a sword, 
 through his heart. But I will fathom his secret if I can. 
 I will know who and what he is. 'Sblood ! I am forced' 
 to own to myself that I fear the young rascal. He has 
 the ring of danger in him. Already I have too many 
 enemies in Brittany ; and, if I would' ever sit safely 
 upon the throne, I must not have any more." ^ 
 
 When he had thus spoken, he called in an attendant, 
 whom he sent in quest of Poins. The man-at-arms soon 
 presented .himgelf . 
 
 " Poins, do you know where the cell of Father Jerome 
 is ?" 
 
 " Do you mean the old monk, my lord ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I can find him." 
 
 " I must see him this very night. He is my confessor, 
 Poins ; and I have something of the greatest weight; 
 upon my mind which I desire that he should know. 
 Tell him to come^to me ; . or, if that may not be, to send 
 word where I may find him. I would see him as soon 
 after dark as possible." 
 
 "I will tell him, my lord." 
 
 " Do so ; and bring me his answer." 
 
 Shortly after Poins left, a messenger came from the 
 king, requesting the attendance of the prince in the 
 royal chamber. 
 
 Bertrand had expected this ; and he was prepared. 
 He found his father alone, with a look of trouble upon 
 his face. 
 
The Prince Gets Ready for Work. 167 
 
 " My son, what is this I hear ?" 
 
 " If I am to judge from the cloud upon your brpw, my 
 noble father, I should say that you had heard something 
 that moved you unpleasantly." 
 
 " Aye, Bertrand — ^it is indeed so. What have you been 
 doing ?" 
 
 " First, my father, tell me what has been said against 
 me. 
 
 Casimer had told to Theobald the story of the 
 wrong which had been done to his daughter ; and of 
 the parts which the prince and the young mountaineer 
 had played in the affair ; and this story the king now 
 . repeated to his son. The prince heard him quietly to 
 the end, without apparent emotion of any kind, and then 
 said: 
 
 " The duke has told you very near the truth, sire ; 
 though the impression left upon your mind is any- 
 thing but fair. I did cause the Lady Rosaline to be 
 carried away. But why? I meant to make her my 
 wife. Had not you supposed that I was to have her 
 hand?" 
 
 " Yes, my son." 
 
 "Aye — and upon that event I had fixed my- brightest 
 hopes of life. But, sire, when I came to ask her plainly 
 for her answer, she refused me. I knew that she was 
 not herself. Was I to submit to such treatment ? Was 
 the house of Rennes to spit upon the son of the king ? 
 But, father, you waste your feelings in holding the 
 -'impressions which the duke has given you ; he has not 
 departed much from the truth ; but he has not told you 
 all. Where is Conrad du Nord ?" 
 
 " He is with the duke ?" 
 
 " Has he left the city ?" 
 
 " No. He remains to answer any further summons I 
 
 may make." 
 
1 68 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 " Very well. Now listen to me, my father. Suppose ■ 
 I should tell you that this same Conrad du Nord was the 
 accepted lover of the duke's daughter ?" 
 
 " How !" exclaimed the king with a start. 
 
 " I wonder not that you are surprised, sire ; but such'^ 
 is the case. And let me tell you something more: 
 This Conrad du Nord is an unknown, nameless 
 adventurer. The duke has picked him up, and means 
 to marry him to his daughter. Have you seen the: 
 youth?" 
 
 " No — not yet," replied the king. 
 
 " If you do see him, you will behold a young mail of 
 bold, commanding presence, such as nature gives to 
 those who are her favorites. With such a tool Casimiri 
 thinks to work some mischief. Suppose his cousin ' 
 of Anjou should join him in some plot against the j 
 throne!" • , ;; 
 
 " But — ^John of Anjou is my friend." 
 
 "Aye — but not mine. I tell you, my father, there is 
 something deep in all this." 
 
 The poor old king trembled from head to foot. He 
 forgot entirely the business upon which he had called 
 his son, this new whisper having filled his soul with 
 alarm. Bertrand knew his weaknesses, and knew just 
 how to play upon them. 
 
 " I do not think Casimir would plot against me." 
 
 " Not if the plotting could place his blood upon the 
 throne ?" 
 
 "My son!" 
 
 " Courage, sire. Leave this in my hands. I was just 
 commencing the work of investigation when, your mes- 
 senger found me. I may be in error. I hope I am. 
 But I will not be long in error. Will you give me three 
 days in which to sift this matter ?" 
 
 The king was weak, and the prince was strong ; and 
 
Weaving the Net. 169 
 
 the quaking old monarch was easily persuaded to give 
 up to his son. 
 
 " Until you hear from me again upon this matter," 
 suggested Bertrand, "you had better not ..suffer the 
 duke to approach you. However, in this you will act 
 your own pleasure. I have only to ask emphatically 
 that you will be careful how you trust him." 
 
 " I shall not see him," replied Theobald, with a shiver. 
 " If he can do me wrong, I do not wish to see him ; and 
 if he is truly my friend, he will forgive me when he 
 knows all. I shall not see him until I hear from you 
 again." 
 
 Bertrand went away with a look of triumph upon his 
 face. 
 
 By and by the page brought up bread and goat's 
 milk for supper. The king called his dog, and fed him ; 
 and when, at the end of half an hour, the animal skipped 
 as gaily as ever, the poor old man sat down to his frugal 
 repast ! 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 WEAVING THE NET. 
 
 It was nearly dark when the prince returned to his 
 own apartments, and he found Poins there waiting for 
 him, with the information that Father Jerome would 
 come to the palace at nine o'clock. Bertrand eat his 
 supper, and then went out and gave some directions to 
 his men-at-arms. At the appointed hour the monk 
 
 arrived. 
 
 Jerome was a member of the order of St. Benedict ; 
 a man somewhere near seventy years of age ; of medium 
 
170 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 height, and tending to corpulency. It is not certain 
 that all the old monks of that period were corpulent-; 
 nor can we swear that Father Jerome was a fre^liver ; 
 but we must put him down as we find him, — and we 
 find him blessed with a marked rotundity of body. The 
 superabundance of flesh may have been begotten of 
 the most simple and austere diet ; and, for ought we 
 know to the contrary, wine may have been a stranger 
 to his lips until this present evening ; but it was to be 
 a stranger no longer ; for one of the first offerings of 
 the prince's hospitality was wine, and Father Jerome 
 drank a full measure of it — drank it as though he was 
 used to it. The monk had a small, dark,> keen eye ; a 
 nose rather broad ; a large mouth, with lips thicker 
 than a sculptor would put upon the face of a hero ; and 
 when he drank his wine he smacked his lips, and winked 
 his bright little eye. 
 
 "Father Jerome," said the prince, "I know you 
 thoroughly." 
 
 The Benedictine sipped from his second measure of 
 wine, and winked again. 
 
 " I suppose you think you know me ?" pursued Ber- 
 trand. 
 
 " Thou art Bertrand, the son of Theobald," answered 
 j:he monk, with mock gravity. 
 
 " And do you not believe that I shall be king of 
 Brittany ?" 
 
 '• Aye — ^verily I do." 
 
 "The><chances are, good' father, that I shall be king ; 
 and when I am king, I mean to hold the sceptre in my 
 own hand." 
 
 " You will have that right, my son." 
 
 " And be sure I shall exercise it." 
 
 " You would not be king if you did not." 
 
 " You are right." 
 
Weaving the Net. 1 7 1 
 
 The prince arose and went to the door, and when he 
 came back he said : 
 
 " I know you, Father Jerome ; and I am going to be 
 perfectly frank with you. I want you to help me ; and 
 in return, whenever you wish it, I will help you." 
 
 " That's frank knd fair, my son," returned the monk. 
 
 " Perhaps," pursued the prince, who felt sure that he 
 knew his man, " there may be something even now in 
 view that you would like. If you help me, I shall pay 
 you ; and, if we can agree upon the terms,, the price 
 might be as well fixed now as at any time. I can tell 
 you exactly what I wish you to do for me. Can you do 
 the same ?" 
 
 The Bendictine smiled, and winked, and rubbed his 
 hands. 
 
 " There is one thing I should like very much," he 
 'said. 
 
 " What is it ?" 
 
 " I should like to be Abbot of Saint Aubin." 
 
 "Father Jerome, help me in my present need, and 
 when I am king you shall be Abbot of Saint Aubin." 
 
 " Do you promise that ?" cried the monk, with a start 
 of glad surprise. 
 
 "I do, upon my knightly word." 
 
 " My lord, I will help you if I can. We understand 
 each other." 
 
 There was no mistaking the meaning of the Benedic- 
 tine. He wished to be Abbot of Saint Aubin ; and to 
 reach that position he would do anything which the 
 prince would dare to plan. 
 
 " What am I to do ?" he asked, after the prince had 
 gone once more to the door and returned. 
 
 " I will tell you in as direct a manner as possible," 
 said Bertrand, drawing his chair up in front, of his 
 
172 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 visitor. " Have you yet heard of the young mountaineer 
 called Conrad du Nord ?" 
 
 " No, my son." 
 
 " Then I must tell you of him. He has been reared 
 in the Nord Mountains, by an old woman named Mar- 
 gfuerite, who has passed for his mother. Close by their 
 cot, in a mountain cave, has lived an old inan of the 
 name of Francisco, who has passed for a hermit, and 
 who has been the youth's tutor. This Francisco, it now 
 seems, was once a soldier, and he has made his pupil 
 one of the best swordsmen in Brittany. Circumstances 
 which I need not now stop to relate, have brought this 
 youth across my path, and it is not impossible that he 
 may become dangerous to me. The same circumstances 
 which brought him across my path introduced him to 
 the Duke of Rennes ; and the duke has conceived a 
 wonderful friendship for him. There is some mystery' 
 about this Conrad's parentage ; and I think the duke has 
 some clue. In fact, I know it must be so. Casimir has 
 been heard to speak words which directly proved it. 
 And, furthermore, he has allowed the adventurer to 
 make love to his daughter." 
 
 " Are you sure of all that you have told me ?" asked 
 Jerome. 
 
 " Yes, father." 
 
 " Even to the love affair between this youth and the 
 Lady Rosaline ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " How old is this Conrad du Nord ?" 
 
 " I should think not far from my own age ; younger, 
 if anything." 
 
 " Has any one else seen him, besides the duke, to be 
 struck by his appearance .?" 
 
 " Yes. Sir Philip de Savenay." 
 
 " And what has Sir Philip discovered ?" 
 
yveavtng the JNet. ''^11 
 
 "He has discovered that the youth's features are 
 remarkably like those of some friend whom he knew 
 years ago." 
 
 " How looks the hero ?" 
 
 " He is tall and well-formed ; with mighty power of 
 limb ; he has light hair, and large, lustrous eyes ; and 
 his presence is 'fiDld and commanding." 
 
 " Can you tell me anything more ?" 
 
 " I can think of nothing." 
 
 " Where is the youth now ?" 
 
 " In Vannes. The duke has brought him hither." 
 
 Xhe monk was deeply interested. He closed his eyes 
 and pressed his fingers upon his brow. 
 
 " My son," he at length said, " I think you have hit 
 upon some one who can help you. Somewhere over a 
 score of years ago — I cannot now tell exactly the time 
 — a child disappeared from Vannes. The circumstances 
 which you have related would seem exactly to apply to 
 the child I speak of. If I am right, the duke must be 
 acting very strangely — ^he must be, laboring under an 
 error." 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Bertrand, eagerly. " What was 
 this child ?" 
 
 The monk seemed not to notice the. question. He 
 remained some time in deep thought, and then said, as 
 though he had not been disturbed : 
 
 " I do not think I am mistaken. But I must see this 
 woman — ^this. Marguerite — of whom you have spoken. 
 Where is she ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell you. I think, however, that she is 
 somewhere near Rennes." 
 
 " What makes you think so ?" 
 
 " Both she and the old hermit went to Rennes with 
 their protege ; the youth remained and they went on." 
 
1 74 *' The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 The monk nodded his head half a dozen times, and 
 finally said : 
 
 " I can tell you where to look for them. They are at 
 the Abbey of Saint Aubin. My word for it, you will ^ 
 find the woman there, if you do not find the man. Old 
 Dagobert, the abbot, is her uncle. Bring her to me^ 
 and I think the mystery may be readil/ solved." 
 
 " But, good father, you have not told me what you 
 have discovered. I am all anxiety. Who was the child 
 you speak of ?" 
 
 The Benedictine shook his head. 
 
 " My son, you must not press me too closely. The 
 secret of that child's life is, for the present, utider the 
 key of my religious oath. Let MargTierite be sum- 
 moned ; and, if it is proved that this child and Conrad 
 du Nord are one and the same person ; and if it be also 
 proved that the child has grown up to be the enemy of 
 our prince, then I will let out the secret and save you." 
 
 " Save me ?" 
 
 " Aye — or serve you, as you please ; for, if it be as I 
 think it is, your enemy is nishing on to his own destruc- 
 tion. One word of mine will blast him forever." 
 
 "Are you speaking truly?" demanded the prince, 
 grasping the monk's arm. 
 
 , "My words are words of solemn truth," replied 
 Jerome, earnestly. 
 
 "And could this fellow wield any power in Brittany 
 ' if he gained the station to which he was bom ?" 
 
 "Not alone. Designing men might make a tool of 
 Tiiiiii — that is all." 
 
 " It is as I thought." 
 
 " But," pursued the monk, " if you are judicious, you 
 have nothing to fear. Bring the old woman. Marguerite, 
 as soon as you can." 
 " How is it with the man — Francisco ?" 
 
Weaving the Net. ijrg 
 
 " I would rather trust the woman. She will not lie. 
 The man is an old soldier, and he might trifle with us. 
 Bring the woman alone if you can." 
 
 The Benedictine had arisen to go, but Bertrand 
 stopped him. 
 
 " There is one thing, good father, I wish to understand 
 more fully. You are not sure that the child of whom 
 you speak — " 
 
 " I am not sure that the child lives," answered Jerome, 
 without waiting for the conclusion of the question. 
 
 " And if this mountaineer should not prove to be the 
 _ same—" 
 
 " My learning who he is might not help you." 
 
 " One thing further : If Conrad du Nord is not that 
 child, can there be any possible danger to me through 
 him ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied the monk, emphatically. "He may 
 prove to be a most powerful enemy. It is not impossible 
 that the duke may hold a suspicion of some truth which 
 I cannot reach. If such should prove to be the case, you 
 may have something to contend with ; and I may never 
 gain the mitre and crozier of Saint Aubin. But bring 
 the woman. Let us question her first." 
 
 " Holy father—" 
 
 " No more, my son. I know what you would ask ; and 
 I will answer you without putting you to the trouble of 
 framing speech. The path is before you ; a tree has 
 blown across the way. We will remove the obstacle if 
 we can. Should it prove too heavy for that, you must 
 cut your way through it !" , 
 
 " Thank you, father." 
 
 " You are not indebted to me yet. Wait. When you 
 have found the woman send for me." 
 
 The monk drank another measure of wine, and then 
 departed ; and as he went out, Poins came in. 
 
176 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 " Poins," cried the prinpe, " who of all my followers is 
 best fitted to take Adolphejs place ?" 
 
 " I should say, my lord, that you have a man in your 
 employ who is better than Adolphe ever was. I mean 
 Marius." 
 
 " By my life, I believe you are right. Why have I 
 never thought of him before? Send him to me at 
 once." 
 
 Poins went out, and ere long afterwards Marius 
 presented himself. He was a middle-aged man ; of 
 medium size, with a mild expression upon his well-cut 
 features, and very quiet and modest in deportment. If 
 Bertrand had not seen this man strike down strong foe- 
 men in battle, he would have been inclined to doubt his 
 energy. 
 
 "Marius, have you heard the story of Conrad du 
 Nord ?" 
 
 " I have, my lord, in part." 
 
 " Have you heard mention made of Marguerite and 
 Francisco ?" 
 
 " Do you mean the two old people whom Bernardo 
 was sent to apprehend ?" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " I have heard of them." 
 
 " Do you know where the Abbey of Saint Aubin is ?" 
 
 " I know it very well, my lord. I was reared between 
 Saint Aubin and Rennes." 
 
 " Good ! Now mark me : I think Francisco and- 
 Marguerite are at the abbey. I want to see Marguerite 
 in this very room as quickly as possible." 
 
 " And Francisco ?" ' 
 
 " I want nothing to do with him at present. The 
 woman must be brought alone, and privately." 
 
 "My. lord, if she is at the abbey, and is well, I will 
 bring her to yotu" 
 
Weaving the Net. 177 
 
 " When can you do it ?" 
 
 " The distance to Saint Aubin is a good thirty leagues," 
 said Marius, calculatingly. "I can change horses at 
 least five times. Ten hours will take me there, with 
 something to spare. If I start soon I can reach the 
 abbey early on the morrow. A few hours rest, and I 
 shall be ready for work. Of course we must return 
 more slowly, if we have the woman ; but I think I may 
 safely promise to be here sometime during the day after 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " How many men do you want ?" 
 
 " Not more than three." 
 
 " Will you select them ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then go and do so ; and while the horses are being 
 prepared, do you come back here. I would speak with 
 you again." 
 
 . In less than half an hour Marius came back, and 
 "reported that he was ready to set out. The prince gave 
 ^lim more particular instructions, and finally dismissed 
 him upon his mission. 
 
 " Now, Poins, I have one more arrangement to make. 
 I want half a dozen of the most daring and stout-armed 
 of my retainers. I want men who fear nothing, and 
 who would march through fire for a fitting object. Can 
 you bring me such ?" 
 
 " I think I can." 
 
 " Go and find them, and bring them back with you ; 
 and, as you go out, send Thamar to me." 
 
 The factotum left the room, and shortly afterwards 
 Thamar entered. 
 
 " My good Thamar, what have you discovered new ?" 
 
 " Nothing, my lord ; "only I am more than ever con- 
 vinced that what I have told you is true." 
 
 " Where is Conrad du Nord ?" 
 
178 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " He is with the duke, at his residence by the sea- 
 shore." 
 
 " Then they mean to reside there while they stop in 
 Vannes ?" 
 
 " It is probable." 
 
 Thamar was dismissed with thanks, and with instruc- 
 tions to keep his watch. 
 
 In half an hour Poins returned, followed by six stout, 
 dark-featured fellows, who, from their uniforms, 
 appeared to be men-at-arms of the prince's legion. 
 They bowed respectfully, and then stood back, with 
 their left hands resting; upon the pommels of their 
 swords, as though they were ready for anything. 
 Bertrand gazed at them, and the significant nod of his 
 head seemed to indicate that he was satisfied. 
 
 " These are all true men, my lord," said Poins. 
 
 " Who speaks for them,?" asked the prince. 
 
 " I can do so," replied one of the number, stepping" 
 forward a pace. " Whatever I promise, my lord, you 
 may consider as promised by the six." 
 
 " I think your name is Pluton ?" 
 
 « It is, my lord." 
 
 "Do you know the young man called Conrad du 
 Nord ?" 
 
 " I saw him, this afternoon, go away with Casimir of 
 Rennes." 
 
 " The very same. He is in my way." 
 
 Pluton dropped his hand upon his sword-hilt,. and 
 ' bowed. 
 
 " The fellow must not be assassinated outright," pur- 
 sued the prince. "There must be some shadow of 
 provocation. I would give a hundred crowns for a hole 
 through his body, provided that hole yras sufficient to 
 let his life out." 
 
 " I understand you, my lord." 
 
now fluton Succeeded. 179 
 
 " But, remember, — it must look like a quarrel." 
 " It shall be so. And if the duke discovers us- 
 
 "You had better leave no track for discoverers. 
 However, if you do as I have said, and complaint is 
 entered against you, I will stand between you and 
 harm." 
 
 " I merely asked the question, my lord, in order that 
 my companions might not think me forgetful ; but I do 
 not intend that the work shall be unnecessarily exposed. 
 We will report in due time." 
 
 When these workmen had gone, the prince retired to 
 his l^gd-chamber, feeling that he had accomplished 
 enough for one day. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW PLUTON SUCCEEDED. 
 
 A warm, pleasant afternoon. Casimir of Rennes and 
 Conrad were walking upon the sea-shore. 
 
 "Patience, my dear boy. I am sure that all will 
 come out well. If I were not confident, I should not 
 hold out the light as I do. Rosaline will come to-mor- 
 row ; and I think that by the day after we shall be 
 ready to proceed with our investigation." 
 
 " I try to be patient," replied Conrad ; " and I Iry to 
 bear up hopefully. Still, I am as one groping in the 
 4ark." 
 
 *• Not exactly in the dark ?" 
 
 " Then it is worse, my lord." 
 
 " How can that be ?" 
 
 " If I am not like one in the. dark, I am like one in a 
 
i8o The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 place of uncertain light. Ah, if the bubble should 
 burst— if the flash should fade away— the gloom of my 
 life would be cold and cheerless. I should then wish 
 that I had never seen the face of the angel !" 
 
 " Hush, my boy. There is no need of such reflec- 
 tions." 
 
 " How can I avoid them ? There are a thousand 
 chances against me. My hopes all hang upon the pos- 
 sibility that my birth may be proved to have been a 
 noble one. Should that fail " 
 
 " Should that fail, my son, I will still bid you hope. 
 What more can you ask ?" 
 
 " I would ask this," cried Conrad, energetically : " I 
 would ask that Rosaline shall decide my fate. Dare 
 you promise me that ?" 
 
 The duke hesitated ; but at length he said: 
 
 " I am almost tempted to give you the promise. 
 However, let us wait tintil Rosaline comes. I will 
 speak with her. As God Jives, I mean to bless you if I 
 can ; and if I hesitate about making such a promise, it 
 is because I have not the right to do it." 
 
 At this juncture a servant approached, and informed 
 the duke that he was wanted at the house. A messen- 
 ger from Rennes had arrived. 
 
 " Come," said "Casimir, laying his hand upon the 
 youth's arm, " let us go and hear the news from the 
 castle. Cheer up, and look forward with courage." 
 
 " I will follow you, my lord." 
 
 " You had better not wander here alone." 
 
 " I will not remain long behind you. Let me reflect 
 a little." 
 
 The- duke went away with his servant, and Conrad 
 remained upon the sea-shore. He did not iftean to stop 
 long. He meant to follow slowly back, that he might 
 have an opportunity of communing with bis own 
 
Hozv Pluton Succeeded. 18 1 
 
 ttioughts. But when once engaged with the reflections 
 that came crowding upon him, he forgot the house, and 
 wandered away, with his head bowed, and his arms 
 folded upon his breast. 
 
 " "Would to heaven that I could see the end of this !' 
 he murmured, as he slowly wended his way among the 
 rocks. " All may be as bright as the duke foretells ; 
 but the decrees of fate are not in his hands. He knows 
 not what may transpire to shake the fabric upon which 
 my hopes are founded. O, my God, I have a fear which 
 I shrink from whispering, even to myself. If my birth 
 was .honorable, why was it hidden so darkly ? If I had 
 been the child of the poorest peasants in the realm, so 
 that I had been honorably begotten, there would have 
 been no need of such mystery. O ! if such a bolt should 
 come crashing upon me, I shall curse the hour that 
 opened my senses to life ! Do not tell me that such 
 thought is foolish ; for, by the angel of fate, my mind 
 runs legitimately thither. And, if the dark hand of an 
 old shame is laid upon me, how shall Rosaline regard 
 me? Ah, my lord duke, I can understand why you 
 hesitate in your promise. You can see that the burst- 
 ing of the thunderbolt is not impossible !" 
 
 Conrad had reached an open space close by the water's 
 edge, where the sand lay hard and smooth, when he 
 was interrupted in his reflections by the appearance of 
 a stout man-at-arms, who seemed to have come from 
 behind some of the neighboring rocks. Our hero would 
 have turned and retraced his steps, but the stranger 
 stopped him. 
 
 " How now, my young man. Don't fly away from 
 me." 
 
 Conrad could not determine whether the fellow was 
 insolent, or whether he was simply bold and frank. 
 
1 82 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " I am not flying, sir," he said, casting a searching 
 glance over the soldier. 
 
 " You have been enjo3H[ng very excellent company." 
 
 " Ah — do you think so ?" 
 
 " I merely judge from the earnest manner in which 
 you were conversing. Zounds ! I expected, when I 
 heard your voice, to find a small party of very excited 
 men." 
 
 Conrad colored and bit his lip. He did not like the 
 manner of the fellow. There was something grossly 
 familiar and bantering in his look and tone. 
 
 "He takes me for some favored friend of the duke's," 
 he said to himself, " and he is jealous of what he con- 
 siders my good fortune." Then he said aloud : 
 
 " You will excuse me, sir, I am in haste." 
 
 " Hold, one moment, if you please. Do not give a 
 friend the cold shoulder in that fashion. Mercy ! One 
 would think you proud if he did not know the stock you 
 came of." 
 
 Conrad's face flushed. 
 
 " What mean you, sir ? Would you insult me ?" 
 
 " Good mercy, no. I pray you, young sir, don't think 
 of such a thing. Ha, ha — an insult is a dangerous 
 thing. In the section I came from an insult is the 
 signal for sword-drawing ; and surely I should be a 
 brute to urge you to draw your sword against an old 
 soldier like myself. What a ridiculous thing it would 
 be." 
 
 "It might be a very foolish thing," said our hero, 
 entirely unable to comprehend what the fellow was 
 driving at. 
 
 " So it would," retorted the man-at-arms, with a coarse 
 laugh. "1 should be directly accused of murder." 
 
 " I thought the laws of Brittany were not so stri9t as 
 that," 
 
How Pluton Succeeded. 183 
 
 "O, bless you — they are very strict about killing 
 unoffending citizens." 
 
 " I do not discover your point, sir." 
 
 " Don't you ? I think it is plain enough." 
 
 " Perhaps you will enlighten me." 
 
 " With pleasure. If I have a battle with a man of my 
 own station, his life is mine if he voluntarily places it 
 at the point of my sword. But if I draw my swoM 
 upon a child, or against one who is wholly unable to 
 defend himself, then the law will not hold me guiltless. 
 Do you understand ?" 
 
 " I understand that you are trifling." 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 "I think you are trifling with me. If you are not, I 
 will thank you to leave me to myself." 
 
 " Mercy ! Cannot one claim a passing word of good 
 cheer without giving offence ? Look to it, my fair 
 young master, or I may think that you mean to insult 
 me. 
 
 " If you pass on, I shall surely not insult you !" 
 
 " And if I stay — would you dare to insult me then ?" 
 
 Conrad turned, and would have walked away ; but 
 the interloper stepped quickly forward, and laid his 
 hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Perha{)S you mean this for an insult." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " This cool turning away from me without answering 
 my question." 
 
 " 'Sblood !" cried our hero, shaking the hand from 
 his arm, and looking into the fellow's face, " you are 
 approaching dangerously near to me. Who are you ? 
 I never saw you before, and I care not to see you agam. 
 I select my own companions, and admit whom I please 
 to my counsel. Leave me." 
 
184 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Bah ! you are hot-headed, my boy. I shall have to 
 give you a lesson in manners." 
 
 " Beware that I do not give you a lesson of a sterner 
 character," said Conrad, shutting his teeth tightly 
 together. 
 
 " Aha — are you there ? Do you mean that you would 
 cross swords with me ?" 
 
 There could be no more doubt touching the fellow's 
 character and intentions. His uniform was of the 
 prince's legion ; and he looked fit for plottings and 
 killings. 
 
 " Look ye," said Conrad, speaking almost in a whis- 
 per, " if you seek a quarrel with me, you are in danger- 
 ous business. You find me alone, and engaged with 
 my own thoughts. Let me pass on, and all may be 
 well. I would have no further words with you." 
 
 " But I would have further words with you !" 
 exclaimed the ruffian, again seizing the youth by the 
 arm, and twirling him around. " By Saint Michael ! I 
 am not to be insulted thus, even though you be a 
 favorite of some proud noble ! We'll see if your sword 
 is as nimble as your tongue. If you are not a coward, 
 defend yourself !" 
 
 The young mountaineer made no effort to contain 
 himself further. He drew his sword, and placed him- 
 self on his guard. The man-at-arms' object was now 
 very evident ; for the ready manner in which he made 
 the attack showed that such had been his plan from the 
 first. Conrad saw it all, and he was convinced that the 
 prince was aj, the bottom of the scheme. 
 
 " Remember," said the assailant, as he threw his left 
 hand behind him, " this is no child's play. The sand at 
 our feet is thirsty for blood." 
 
 " Be it so," responded Conrad. 
 
 The swords were crossed ; and for some moments the 
 
How Pluton Succeeded. 185 
 
 parries were simply of preparation. Directly, however, 
 the soldier made a furious lunge, and the combatants 
 fairly changed places. 
 
 " 'Sdeath ! your sword is a stout one." 
 
 " It is sharp, too," returned Conrad, coolly and signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " Mine is not blunt," said the man-at arms, as he 
 made two or three rapid passes. But he very soon lost 
 his confident air, and the look of easy assurance which 
 had rested upon his face gave place to an expression of 
 eaijiest concern. He found the point of the opposing 
 sword very difficult to meet, and its gyrations and 
 thrusts were becoming painfully perplexing. He tried 
 all his feints, and they failed. Then he tried the 
 strengfth of his opponent's wrist ; and that trial was his 
 last. His sword became hopelessly entangled, and he 
 cried out for help. He did not ask for mercy at the 
 hands of his antagonist ; but he called for help, as 
 though he had friends at hand. But he had delayed 
 too long to save himself. The point of his sword was 
 borne down till it touched the sand; and before he 
 could recover it he was pierced to the heart. 
 
 But what had that cry for help meant ? As soon as 
 Conrad had shaken the sinking ruffian from his sword, 
 he started back and looked around, him ; and he saw, 
 coming up from behind a pile of great rocks, five armed 
 men, clad in garbs like that worn by him who now lay 
 bleeding upon the sand. 
 
 " How now, assassin !" exclaimed their leader, rush- 
 ing forward with his sword drawn. " By the gods ! 
 you shall pay for this !" 
 
 Conrad understood the whole plot, as though it had 
 been told to him by the man who had framed it. He 
 ktiew that these were emissaries of the prince, and that 
 his life was wanted. Against those five stout men-at- 
 
1 86 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 arms he could not hope successfully to contend ; but he 
 was determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. 
 
 Close behind him were two huge rocks, with a space 
 between them sufficient for his standing. This position 
 he gained as quickly as possible, and then turned upon 
 the approaching foe. 
 
 " Hold, sirs !" he cried, planting himself firmly, on his 
 guard. " You have no cause for warring against me." 
 
 " Say ye so ?" returned the leader of the gang, who 
 was none other than Pluton. " Have you not slain our 
 comrade ?" 
 
 " Down with him !" yelled a powerful fellow, who 
 stood by Pluton's side. " By Saint Paul ! he cannot 
 break down my blade. Let me get at him !" 
 
 The leader moved a step away, and allowed the 
 eager man to rush on. It was plainly seen that but one 
 man could engage the youth at the same time, and 
 Pluton seemed willing that his stout follower should 
 make the attempt. 
 
 Conrad was not at all moved by the coming of this 
 dashing, daring fellow. The rascal was huge of frame, 
 and must have possessed immense strength ; but he 
 came with too much confidence, as though simple brute 
 force was to accomplish his purpose. He entered the 
 pass between the two rocks ; and, with a roar of ven- 
 geance, not unlike the bellowing of a bull, he raised his 
 sword and aimed a furious blow at the youth's head. 
 Conrad smiled as he saw the direction of the ponderous 
 blade ; for, upon the first instant, he knew that the 
 giant was at his mercy. A very slight movement on 
 his part turned the furiously driven point against the 
 rock ; and from that moment he led the attack. The 
 ruffian was startled ; then bewildered ; and then 
 blinded ; but before he could withdraw from the trap 
 into which he had so eagerly plunged, the trenqhant 
 
How Pluton Succeeded. 187 
 
 blade of the mountaineer had cut the thread of his life, 
 and he fell backward at the entrance of the passage. 
 
 Pluton by this time discovered that the man whom 
 the prince so much feared was not an enemy to be 
 despised by anybody ; and before he permitted another 
 attack, he stopped to make a better plan. 
 
 " We have him now," he cried, moving back a pace, 
 and pointing to an open way towards the shore. " Pierre 
 and Ludovic, do you go round there, and attack the 
 rascal in the rear. By the mass ! we have him now in 
 his own trap." 
 
 Conrad was startled when he heard this ; for surely 
 his fate was sealed if the murderous plan should be 
 carried out. Against enemies on both hands, in such a 
 place as that, it would be impossible to contend. He 
 was upon the point of rushing out to attack the two in 
 front before the others could get around to the rear of 
 the rocks, when a new party appeared upon the scene. 
 
 " Halloa !" cried a voice. " What is all this ?" 
 
 Pluton turned and beheld the captain of the ducal 
 guard at the head of a dozen men. He recognized the 
 rich uniform in a moment, and he knew that his own 
 safety would be jeoparded if he stopped for further 
 explanation. So he gave the word to his companion, 
 and ran with all possible speed down by the shore, 
 where the other two of his men had just disappeared ; 
 and in a very few moments they were all out of sight, 
 among the rocks. 
 
 Nicolas, for he it was, advanced to meet our hero, 
 who very quickly explained what had transpired. 
 
 " Never mind," said the captain, as the idea of pursu- 
 ing the rascals presented itself. " Let them go. We 
 know from whom they came ; and we shall know better 
 how to manage for the future. The duke was right in 
 sending me down here." 
 
1 88 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Did he send you ?" 
 
 " Yes, I met Wm at the garden gate. He was going 
 in, and I was going out. He said lie had left you alone 
 down by the sea, and told nie to come down and keep 
 you company. And, by my life, I think I arrived just in 
 season. The murderous rascals had planned a sure thing." 
 
 " I don't know," said Conrad, smiling. 
 
 " How ? Do you imagine you could have withstood 
 such odds?. Think of it: While those in front held 
 your point, those in the rear would simply have run 
 their sword straight through your body." 
 
 " Ah, my good captain, I should not have given them 
 that opportunity. When I saw those two who were to 
 have attacked me in the rear disappear, I had but one 
 chance left, so far as my own endeavors were concerned ; 
 and that chance I was about to try when you appeared.^ 
 I meant to rush out upon the two who remained in 
 front, and press them with all my might, hoping to 
 overcome them before the others could come to their 
 assistance. However, I am very thankful that you 
 saved me from the ordeal, for I might have failed." 
 
 "By the Holy Cross!" cried Nicolas, smiting his 
 breast, " I almost wish I had left you to the work ; for, 
 upon my soul, I think you would have conquered ^ 
 them." 
 
 " It is better as it is," said Conrad. " I have shed 
 blood enough." 
 
 " By Saint Michael ! if the prince follows you much 
 more, his prided legion will be materially thinned. But 
 come — let us go to the house. We will send down some 
 of the servants to take care of these dead men." 
 
 " There has been an arrival from Rennes .?" remarked 
 our hero, as they walked along. He intended to have 
 spoken very unconcernedly ; but there was a strange 
 flutter in his voice. 
 
The Proscribed, 189 
 
 " Yes, i-eplied Nicolas ; " an advance courier from 
 the train of the Lady Rosaline." 
 
 " Ah ; is she on her way to this place ?" 
 "Yes. She has hurried, it seems. She was lone- 
 some at the castle, after her father had gone— very 
 lonesome." 
 
 The captain looked into Conrad's face as he spoke, 
 and then added : 
 
 " She will be here this evening— at least two days 
 earlier than we had calculated upon." 
 
 The stout officer would have spoken further, but his 
 companion had ■ become suddenly thoughtful and 
 abstracted, and he chose not to disturb the current of 
 his reflections. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE PROSCRIBED. 
 
 The Abbey of Saint Aubin was one of the oldest 
 Benedictine institutions of Brittany ; and Dagobert, the 
 abbot, was one of the" oldest of the Church magnates. 
 He had been present at the crowning of three kings, 
 and was likely to be present at the crowning of the 
 fourth. He was a man of robust frame ; blessed with a 
 calm, healthy temperament ; and all his instincts and 
 impulses were on the side of Right. The result of this 
 was, that throughout the whole realm he was regarded 
 as an oracle of truth and wisdom ; and the nobility 
 respected him, while the common people loved and 
 reverenced him. He had seen the lights and shadows 
 of more than ninety years ; and though his hair was 
 
I go The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 white as snow, and his brow deeply furrowed, yet his 
 form was erect and his eye was clear. He bore the 
 mitre and the crozier, and wielded the spiritual sceptre 
 over all that part of the kingdom east of the lUe and 
 Villaine. 
 
 Dagobert sat beneath one of the trees in the court of 
 the abbey, and with him were Francisco and Mar- 
 guerite. They had been conversing some time, and 
 that the subject was of interest and importance was 
 evident from the earnestness of their tones and ges- 
 tures. 
 
 " It is best that the boy should leave the kingdom," 
 said the abbot, in answer to a remark which Marguerite 
 had made. " We will do our duty if we can. It is not 
 for us to inquire what might be the result of making 
 known his true name and station. It might open a 
 pleasant way to him ; and it might doom him to dis- 
 aster and violent death. Thus far in life he has been 
 peaceful and happy enough ; and if his peace is to con- 
 tinue, we must send him away." 
 
 " Whither shall we send him ?" asked Francisco. 
 
 " Ah," replied Dagobert, shaking liis head, " if he had 
 come up as we had hoped, that question could have 
 been easily answered. If he had taken to the Church, I 
 could have opened the way to his speedy advancement. 
 But I do not blame you, Francisco. The lion cannot be 
 bent to the plow ; nor can aii old soldier be expected to 
 forget the lessons of his youth. If there is any blame, 
 it must rest upon me. However, I think the boy's 
 safety may be easily provided for. I shall go to V^nnes 
 within a few days, and I will make some arrangement 
 for sending him away. How -vifould you like a house in 
 Burgundy, my sister ? That is far enough away from 
 Brittany ; and I have friends there to whom I can 
 recommend you." 
 
The Proscribed! igi 
 
 The -woman cared not whither she went, so that Con- 
 rad would be safe. She had given a promise to the 
 boy's mother ; and she wished to keep it if she could. 
 
 " Then let it rest as it is until we see Conrad." 
 
 Thus speaking the abbot arose, and walked with 
 Francisco to the abbey, while Marguerite remained 
 seated beneath the tree. 
 
 " I am not easy." said the dame to herself, after she 
 was left alone. " They do not feel as anxious as I feel. 
 The boy must not be discovered. I promised his 
 mother ; and I will keep the promise if I can. No 
 good can come of his remaining in Brittany." 
 
 She was soliloquizing thus when she was interrupted 
 by the approach of an old woman, who walked with a 
 staff. 
 
 "A blessing upon thee, my sister," said the new- 
 comer. 
 
 Marguerite returned the salutation, and asked the 
 stranger if she would sit down and rest herself. 
 
 " IjTo ; I am not in need of rest. I am in search of a 
 woman named Marguerite." 
 
 " I am Marguerite." 
 
 " I have a message from Rennes." 
 
 " I am expecting a message from that very place." 
 
 " This message is from a youth named Conrad." 
 
 " Good !" cried the dame, eagerly. " It is for me the 
 message is intended." 
 
 " Do you know a woman named Rachel ?" 
 
 " Yes. She is housekeeper at the castle." 
 
 " The very same. It is Rachel who has brought the 
 message, and she is close at hand to deliver it. Shall I 
 bring her hither ?" 
 
 « Where is she ?" 
 
 « She stopped at the Kttle cot by the lodge." 
 
 '■ I will go and see her." 
 
192 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 The messenger turned to retrace her steps, and Mar- 
 guerite followed her. They passed out at the gate, and 
 not far away they found the cot, which they entered. 
 The outer door was closed, and when Marguerite looked 
 to see Rachel, she saw, instead, an armed man. Those 
 who usually inhabited the cot were not there. The 
 person who had conducted her from the abbey grounds 
 had disappeared, walking out with a firm, heavy tread: 
 
 "My good woman," said the man, "my "name is 
 Marius, and I have come to Saint Aubin on purpose to 
 see you. You have not the least cause for alarm." 
 
 " But where is Rachel ?" 
 
 "Who is Rachel?" 
 
 " The old housekeeper of the castle." 
 
 " O, — ^that was a little pleasantry on the part of one 
 of my men. Ha, ha, — the rascal makes a capital old 
 woman when he tries. But, dear Marguerite,, this is all 
 done for a most excellent purpose. You are wanted in 
 Vannes. Now don't start, nor be frightened ; and don't 
 attempt to make any disturbance, for it cannot benefit 
 you. The people who inhabit this cot I have sent away 
 for a season ; so we have the place all to ourselves." 
 
 " But are you from Conrad ?" 
 
 " Just the same. You will see Conrad when we reach 
 the end of our journey. But we won't stop to converse 
 here." 
 
 Marguerite was frightened, and on the first oppor- 
 tunity she sprang towards the door ; but she found it 
 fastened. Then she turned and sank down upon her 
 knees. 
 
 "Don't pray to me, my good woman. If all the 
 priests in Brittany were on their knees, as you are, I , 
 could not listen to them." 
 
 Marius raised her up as bespoke ; but she broke from 
 him and rushed towards the little open window. Before 
 
Tke Proscribed ! igj 
 
 she could utter any cry, however, she was pulled forci- 
 bly back, and thrown upon the floor. 
 
 " This is unpleasant," said Marius, stooping over her ; 
 " but you force me to it." 
 
 His three men came in as he spoke, and the woman's 
 hands were quickly tied behind her, and her mouth 
 .stopped. Then they lifted her up, and bore her out by 
 a back way into a dense wood which grew near to the 
 cot. She struggled with all her might ; but her efforts 
 were in vain. 
 
 In the early evening Prince Bertrand sat in his closet, 
 wondering how his agents were succeeding. Where 
 was Pluton ? Had he done anything yet ? Where w£is 
 Marius ? Would he bring Marguerite ? He was mut- 
 tering to himself of these things, when Poins came in 
 and informed him that Pluton was without. 
 
 The prince started up, and ordered that Pluton should 
 be sent in. 
 
 The man-at-arms entered with a downcast, troubled 
 look. 
 
 "How now, Pluton ? What success ?" 
 
 " My lord, I hardly dare speak to you the truth. I 
 would rather that my body were buried in the rough 
 sands of the sea, than that my tongue should be forced 
 to the story I have to tell." 
 
 Bertrand rose to his feet with an angry gesture ; but 
 before he suffered himself to speak he gained control of 
 his temper. 
 
 " Tell me the truth," he said. " I am prepared for 
 
 anything." 
 
 " The truth is this, my lord. I had been on the watch 
 for Conrkd du Nord, and this afternoon I saw him walk 
 down upon the sea-shore with the Duke of Rennes. I. 
 
194 The Fortunes of Conrad, 
 
 followed, with my men, being careful to keep out of 
 sight behind" the rocks. By and by the duke was 
 called back to his house, and the youth was left alone. 
 I thought the time was now come to strike the blow, 
 and Harold offered to do the work. In fact, he was 
 eager for the privilege. I knew him to be a cool, brave 
 man, and an expert swordsman ; and I let him-go. The 
 first part of his work he performed very well. He 
 excited the young fellow to wrath, and got him to draw 
 his sword. But he could not hold a point against the 
 mountaineer. He went down in a very few minutes, 
 with a hole through his body. Upon that the rest of us 
 appeared, and the fellow sprang into a narrow passage 
 between two huge rocks, where he turned as though .he- 
 would face us. Of course but one could attack him 
 there ; and Michaud, the most powerful of all our men- 
 at-arms, rushed upon him with his heavy blade. But 
 Michaud could not stand before the marvelous skill of 
 that fellow's sword, and he fell dead in less than a min- 
 ute after the first blow had been struck. 
 
 " I did not mean to allow the youngster to do any 
 more mischief ; so I sent two of my men around to 
 attack him in the rear, while Raoul and I held him in 
 front ; but before we could put this plan into execution 
 the captain of the ducal guard appeared, followed by a 
 number of his men, and we made our escape as quickly 
 as possible. Indeed, my lord, we did the best we could. 
 I did not hold the fellow so high as he proved himself, 
 or—" 
 
 " You would have made an assassination of it," cried 
 Bertrand. " By the mass, that is the way it should have 
 been done. The fellow is a very demon of skill and 
 address." 
 
 " I trust, my lord, that you will not suffer your anger 
 to rest against me. Indeed^ I did " 
 
The Proscribed. 195 
 
 " Go to, Pluton. I am sorry you failed ; but I am 
 not angry with you. Perhaps at some time, you may 
 make up for this. I shall hold you to the performance 
 of a bold deed one of these days." 
 
 "Anything, my lord. Command me as you will." 
 
 The man was earnest and sincere ; for he had expected 
 a fall of mighty wrath upon his head. He was ju^t 
 rising from his knees, when Poins made his appear- 
 ance, with the announcement that Marius had returned. 
 
 " Ha !" cried the prince, starting at the sound of that 
 name, " if Marius brings success with him, I shall feel 
 some recompense. Go, Pluton, and keep your own 
 counsel ; and also keep your sword sharp." 
 
 Pluton withdrew, and shortly afterward Marius 
 entered the apartment. 
 
 "Speak, Marius. I have had one note of failure 
 since the night set in." 
 
 " The second note will not be sounded by me, my 
 lord." 
 
 " Ah — you have succeeded ?" 
 
 "Yes. The woman for whom. you sent me is in one 
 of your ante-rooms, safe and sound." 
 
 " You are sure it is Marguerite ?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord. She is the woman who reared Con- 
 rad du Nord. I found her at the Abbey of Saint 
 Aubin ; I saw her in company with the old abbot and 
 Francisco ; and afterwards she was enticed easily into 
 our power through the influence of Conrad's name." 
 
 " Good ! good ! You shall have your reward, Marius. 
 The woman is under guard ?" 
 
 " She is " 
 
 " Go and keep her until I send for her. See that she 
 has such refreshment as she may need, and be sure 
 that she is treated with kindness and respect." 
 
 « Now, my brave Poins," continued Bertrand, as soon 
 
196 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 as Marius had gone, " go and bring Father Jerome to 
 me. Let nothing stop him. I must see him this vefy 
 night." 
 
 In less than an hour the old monk presented him- 
 self in the prince's apartment. His first look was upon 
 the table, and a shadow crossed his face when he saw 
 that the board was bare. Bertrand noticed the look, 
 and he directed Poins to bring wine. 
 
 The shadow was gone from the good father's face ; 
 and with a smack of the lips and an extra wink of the 
 little eyes, he turned to business. 
 
 " Father Jerome, the woman is here." 
 
 " Marguerite ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Have you questioned her ?" 
 
 " No. I did not venture. I thought you had better 
 do it." 
 
 " You were right, my son. I remember the woman 
 well, and I think she must remember me. But, before 
 we question her, there are some things to be con- 
 sidered." 
 
 " Consider well, good father," said the prince, « for^ 
 upon the result hangs the mitre and crozier of Saint 
 Alban." 
 
 The monk nodded his head, and winked emphatically. 
 
 " I understand, my son. Do not think I forget Saint 
 Alban. 'But I was thinking that this woman must be 
 approached very carefully. Evidently her love is all 
 centered in the youth, and if she thought we meant him 
 harm, no power could open her lips. We must make 
 her believe that we are laboring for the fellow's good." 
 
 "Certainly. You can manage it as you please, I 
 leave it entirely in your hands." 
 
 " Does she know you, my lord ?" 
 
The Proscribed. 197 
 
 " I think not. At all events, I don't know' that I ever 
 saw her." 
 
 " Very well. I am ready to see her." 
 
 Poins was called, and directed to bring Marguerite 
 into the chamber. 
 
 In a little while the woman came, pale and fright- 
 ened, and trembling at every joint ; but when she saw 
 the monk a spark of hope gleamed in her eye, and 
 instinctively she put her hands out towards him. The 
 holy garb seemed to her a harbinger of safety. Father 
 Jerome saw the effect, and he rightly guessed its 
 cause. 
 
 " My good sister," he said, rising and extending his 
 hand, "you have nothiag to fear. You are safe, and 
 your condition shall be respected." 
 
 "Holy father, what means this violence? Why have 
 I been thus dragged from my friends by armed men ?" 
 She gave the monk her hand, and her look and tones 
 were trusting. 
 
 " Be seated. Marguerite, and I will explain." 
 
 " You know me, then ?" she said, as she sat down. 
 
 " Certainly I know you. Have you forgotten me ?" 
 
 She looked into his face as he turned it towards her, 
 and presently she recognized him. 
 
 " You are Father Jerome." 
 
 "Yes, Marguerite. I think it is over twenty years 
 since last we met." 
 
 " Three years more than that," said Marguerite. 
 
 " Aye — you are right. How time passes away ! You 
 and I have both changed ; but I trust that the measure 
 of evil has been less to us than the measure of good." 
 
 " If it has been so in the past, I pray God it may be 
 so in the future !" ejaculated the ^ame. Then she 
 looked upon the prince, and a sudden tremor shook her 
 frame. 
 
198 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " You behold a stranger," said Bertrand, smiling. 
 
 " Are you not the prince ?" asked Marguerite. 
 
 " What makes you think so ?" 
 
 " Your face — your dress — ^your bearing. You are the 
 prince." 
 
 " Good sister," interposed the monk, " you are right ; 
 and let me assure you that the prince desires to be your 
 friend. It was at my request that you were sent for ; 
 and if you have been dragged hither, then our servants" 
 did wrong. Did you know that Conrad du Nord was in 
 Vannes ?" 
 
 " I have learned so since I left Saint Aubin. O, is he 
 safe, good father ?" Marguerite cast a quick, eager 
 glance at the prince, and then bent her gaze upon the 
 monk. 
 
 " He is safe and well, my sister ; and we desire to 
 promote his welfare. I will not conceal from you that 
 he is in danger ; but we hope, with your assistance, to 
 save him. If you will listen to me — ^if you will trust 
 me — I will show you how he can be saved ; or, at least, 
 how I hope he can be saved. I doubt not that you 
 have been tempted to regard the prince as his enemy." 
 
 Marguerite's quick glance of fear was answer enough, 
 and the monk continued : 
 
 " But you have no occasion to apprehend such danger. 
 That the prince has feared this youth is true; but I 
 have assured him that he had no just occasion for such 
 fear; and I have sent for you tc confirm him in that 
 assurance." 
 
 It was evident that the woman was prepared to trust 
 the holy man ; for she regarded him hopefully, and 
 hung eagerly upon his words. She still trembled, but 
 it was from deep anxiety and concern. 
 
 " Speak to me, father, and tell me- what is to be done. 
 
The Proscribed. 199- 
 
 Tie boy is true and good, and lie deserves not ill- 
 fortune." 
 
 " Marguerite," said the Benedictine, speaking with a 
 show of religious frankness, "the boy's whole danger 
 lies in the mystery that enshrouds his birth." 
 
 The good dame turned pale at these words, and 
 trembled like an aspen. 
 
 " Be not alarmed," resumed Jerome, persuasively. 
 " I think I know the truth ; and, if I be right, I can save 
 your boy. Will you answer me truly ?" 
 
 " Speak on, father." 
 
 " Then give me your attention." The monk bent for- 
 ward, with his hands folded, and continued : " There 
 once lived in Vannes a Count named Marceau. He 
 was a general in the army, and was ambitious. His 
 wife was of gentle blood, and named Marcelline. This 
 cotmt conspired against the life of the king, organizing 
 a band of traitors, and. plotting a most fearful rebellion ; 
 and in this plot he was seconded by his wife. The plot 
 was discovered almost upon the eve of its consumma- 
 tion, and the leaders were arrested. Marceau and 
 Marcelline were not only sentenced to death, but their 
 whole family were included in the fatal decree. Marcel- 
 Hne had a young infant, even then upon her breast — a 
 •boy — and this boy, the offspring of such wicked traitors 
 and conspirators, was condemned by the laws of the 
 realm. There was no power on earth could pardon him. 
 Even the king could not do it ; for it is written in the 
 book that the children of parents who have conspired 
 against the king's life must die. Marcelline had friends, 
 and her infant's life was saved. It was brought away 
 by the nurse of a powerful lady, and the story was told 
 that the infant was dead. Have I not spoken truly ?" 
 
 Marguerite was fearfully convulsed. Her frame 
 
200 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 shook, and her bosom heaved as though her heart would 
 leap from its place. 
 
 " Have I not spoken truly, my sister ?" 
 
 " Why — why — have you told me this story ? Why do 
 you ask me if it is true ?" 
 
 " Because I have a purpose. Ah, Marguerite, the 
 story is not a new one to you." 
 
 The woman clasped her hands, and once more she 
 turned a frightened look upon the prince. 
 
 " My sister, you have nothing to fear for your boy 
 from the truth of this story. Designing men are trying 
 to make use of him, and the prince only desires that he 
 should'leave the country. Now answer me : Was not 
 the infant child of Marcelline saved ?" 
 
 Marguerite did not answer. She gazed with a vacant 
 stare towards the monk, as though some other object 
 stood between him and her. 
 
 " Will you not speak, good sister ? 
 
 " Suppose the child of Marcelline was saved ?" said 
 the dame, in a hoarse whisper. " Suppose that child 
 still lived.?" 
 
 " We would know it," returned Jerome. 
 
 " And death would be his portion !" 
 
 Marguerite bowed her head, and rested her brow 
 upon her hands. 
 
 Bertrand took advantage of the opportunity, and 
 glided noiselessly to the monk's side. 
 
 " Rememher," he whispered, " we must not lose it 
 now. If you would gain the mitre of Saint Alban, hesi- 
 tate at nothing. Let no word of promise she may 
 demand stick in your throat." 
 
 "My good sister," said the monk, as the prince,; 
 resumed his seat, " you are laboring under a false " 
 impression. If that boy lives he may be saved. : If 
 Conrad du Nord is that boy, we will save him !" 
 
The Proscribed. 201 
 
 Marguerite started up in an instant. 
 
 " Do you swear that ?" she cried. 
 
 The Benedictine would have hesitated ; but a look 
 from the prince was sufficient to move him. The golden 
 crozier of Saint Alban was too grand a prize to be lost. 
 
 " We do swear it !" 
 
 " Aye," added Bertrand ; " we both swear it !" 
 
 " But how is he to be saved ?" 
 
 " We will send him from the country." 
 
 « Whither ?" 
 
 "Where no evil influence from Brittany can reach 
 him more." 
 
 " O — ^if you would do this — " 
 
 " We swear it by all we hold sacred !" said the prince. 
 
 " How is it ?" asked Jerome. " Is Conrad du Nord the 
 child of those proscribed and executed parents ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 As the answer fell from Marguerite's lips, she sank 
 back in her chair, with a faint gasp, and in a moment 
 more the monk caught her in his arms. ' , 
 
 " God save us !" ejaculated Father Jerome. " She has 
 sjvooned ! Must we push this further ? Can you not 
 send the boy away as " 
 
 " Hush ! Are you mad ?"" exclaimed the prince, 
 stamping his foot. " Shall we suffer such a viper to 
 live ! By Saint Paul, we should -be sinning against the 
 laws of the land. If the fainting of this woman moves 
 
 you so 
 
 " Enough, my lord. I am with you to the end." 
 
 " Good, my brave monk. See me through with this, 
 
 and in another year you shall invite the king to sit af 
 
 your table of Saint Alban." 
 
 The Benedictine nodded and winked assent to the 
 
 proposition, while Bertrand turned to call his servants 
 
 to come and care for the fainting woman. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE CRASH 
 
 Rosaline of Rennes, accompanied by a strong force 
 of her father's guard, reached Vannes early in the even- 
 ing, where all was in readiness for her reception. The 
 duke smilingly chided her for the haste she had made 
 in leaving the castle ; but the chiding did not grieve 
 her. 
 
 " Were you afraid to remain there ?" he asked, with 
 his hand upon her head. 
 
 " No, father." 
 
 " Ah, you were lonesome, Rosaline ; and your lone- 
 someness was not wholly because your father was 
 away." 
 
 She looked up into his face with an expression of love 
 and of sadness ; and before she spoke, a bright tear 
 gathered upon the long silken lashes, and rolled down 
 the soft cheek. 
 
 " Dear father, I have no desire to hide my real feel- 
 ings. I did wish to see you ; and I wished to see 
 another ; — I missed you both. But it was not wholly 
 that. The old castle is not so bright when you are 
 , away as it used to be. When' I am left alone within its 
 great walls I feel the weight of mourning settling upon 
 my spirits. I have no mother now to share my 
 thoughts." 
 
 The duke bent his head, and imprinted a kiss upon 
 the fair brow ; and then he drew his child to his bosom. 
 
The Crash. 203 
 
 The name of his sainted wife fell with a sigh from his 
 ■ lips, and a tear rolled down his manly cheek. 
 
 " I am glad you are here, Rosaline ; for your pres- 
 ence is as the sunlight in my path. So make yourself 
 perfectly easy, an'd assume your position as mistress of 
 the house." 
 
 So ended the parent's chiding, and ere long the smiles 
 came back to Rosaline's face. After she had changed 
 her raiment, and partaken of refreshment, she rejoined 
 her father in the drawing-room, where Conrad was 
 waiting to greet her. The duke, when he had witnessed 
 the meeting of the lovers, walked away to an alcove, 
 and communed with himself. He saw plainly that the 
 love between those two beings was deep and powerful, 
 and he knew that a sundering of the tie would be mor- 
 tally painful.' 
 
 *' But it cannot be," he soliloquized. " There is no 
 possibility of danger. If he is not already noble, I will 
 make him noble. I will make him noble in station, as 
 God has made him noble in nature. I will not allow 
 the thought of failure to come. He is worthy, and he 
 is true. As for the rest, I leave it in the hands of fate." 
 
 He returned and sat down with the youthful couple, 
 and for an hour or more the conversation was earnest 
 and interestidg. The duke was more than ever charmed 
 by Conrad's wit and intelligence ; and more than once 
 he found himself receiving instruction from his lips. 
 Rosaline, somewhat fatigued by her journey, at length 
 arose to retire ; but before she had bidden her father 
 good-night, a servant opened the door and called him 
 out. 
 
 " I will see him in the hall," she said, turning, and 
 extending her hand to Conrad. 
 
 " Blessed one !" the youth exclaimed, drawing the 
 maiden to his bosom ; " should the night come when 
 
204 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 you are mine no more, I shall remember these moments 
 as the brightest and sweetest of my life !" 
 
 "Dear Conrad, why speak you so ? O, do not whisper 
 such thoughts. What can divide us now ?" 
 
 " Perhaps — nothing !" 
 
 " You are sad. What is it, Conrad ? Surely nothing 
 has—" 
 
 " No, no, sweet love. It was but a passing cloud. O, 
 can it be possible that such a heaven is to be mine on 
 earth !" He held the beautiful girl by the hands, and 
 gazed down into her face, and then pressed his lips upon 
 her brow. 
 
 " I am yours, Conrad — yours forever !" she murmured, 
 returning his kiss. " Let our dreams to-night be the 
 happy harbingers of a blissful future." 
 
 " Heaven bless you, love !" 
 
 Rosaline smiled a blessing in return ; and so they 
 separated. 
 
 When the duke returned there was a troubled look 
 upon his face, and he regarded our hero for some 
 moments, as though he were trying to frame the lan- 
 guage he was to use. 
 
 " My lord," said Conrad, noticing the. effort, "you 
 have something to say to me." 
 
 "Yes," returned Casimir, smiling, and trjdng .to 
 assume a free expression. "Something curious has 
 come to pass. The king has sent for us." . '. 
 
 " Sent for us ! — the king !" repeated the • youth. 
 " What can he want with us at this hour ?" 
 
 " Indeed, my son, I cannot imagine ■; but we will Soon 
 ascertain. His majesty may have found an hour to 
 sparer-he may have been busy through the day." 
 
 " But, my lord— " 
 
 . f ' L^t us not anticipate any evil, ' ' interrupted the :duke. 
 
The Crash. 205 
 
 " While I am with you, you have nothing to fear. We 
 will answer the summons at once." 
 
 Conrad had no disposition to oppose the arrangement, 
 and yet he was not easy. However, the assurance of 
 his host gave him something to lean upon, and he pre- . 
 pared for the visit without any show of fear. 
 
 Nicolas was called, with a squad of his men, to 
 accompany his master to the royal palace, and when all 
 was ready they set off. In the palace court they were 
 tnet by Sir Philip de Savenay, who conducted the duke 
 and Conrad towards the king's chamber. 
 
 " My dear captain," said Casimir, speaking so that 
 Conrad might not overhear, " can you tell me what is 
 the meaning of this untimely summons ?" 
 
 " I cannot, my lord," replied Sir Philip ; " though I 
 .suspect," he added, after turning his head to see that 
 their companion was not too near, " that the prince has 
 made some new complaint. Bertrand went .into the 
 king's chamber an hour ago, and when he had been 
 there for half an hour, the royal order came forth 
 summoning the Duke of Rennes and Conrad du Nord." 
 
 " I have no fears of any complaint the prinpe can 
 make," said the duke; "and I think I, know what he 
 hath now to complain of. One or two more of his best 
 men are missing. If that should be the case, I shall 
 send out after Nicolas to come in and testify." 
 
 "When they reached the door of the roya,l apartment, 
 Sir Philip went in in advance, and presently came back,., 
 and bade his companions follow, him. 
 
 The chamber was well lighted, and the king and the 
 prince "seemed to be there alone. When Conrad beheld 
 the bent and trembling form of the aged monarch, ,and 
 marked the lines of care which had been so deeply 
 drawn upon the pale brow, he was moved with pity ; 
 but when his gaze rested upon the sinister features of 
 
2o6 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Bertrand, his teeth were shut closely together, and a 
 harsher feeling chilled his heart. 
 
 Theobald leaned forward as Conrad approached him, 
 and raised his hand above his eyes, so as to shade them 
 from the glare of the hanging lamps. 
 
 " Sire," spoke the duke, " I am here in answer to your 
 summons ; and Conrad du Nord accompanies me." 
 
 " Is this Conrad du Nord ?" asked the king. 
 
 " That is-my name, sire," replied our hero, advancing 
 another step, and bowing. 
 
 Theobald gazed long and earnestly upon the youthful 
 face, and his lips moved as though he were rauttering his 
 thoughts to himself. 
 
 " This is the man," said the prince ; " and I think we 
 had better proceed. It is late, and you are growing 
 weary, my father." 
 
 The king roused himself, and turned to his captain. 
 
 " Sir Philip, jthis young man is in your custody for the 
 present." ^ 
 
 De Savenay bowed, and drew near to the side of Con- 
 rad du Nord. 
 
 " Casimir," pursued Theobald, in a tremulous, uneasy 
 tone, " I have a most unpleasant work upon my hands— 
 a work which I would gladly avoid did not the stem 
 laws of Brittany point the way I must go." 
 
 "Sire," answered the duke, respectfully, "let the 
 laws of the realm be obeyed. I am ready to bow to 
 them." 
 
 "This youth, whom you have taken to your friend- 
 ship, my good cousin, is also under the law." 
 
 ■' Of course he is, sire." 
 
 " Then we will waste no time. You shall quickly 
 know, Casimir, why I have sent for you. Let the. monk 
 be brought in." 
 
 Bertrdnd turned towards a side door, which was con- 
 
The Crash. 207 
 
 cealed by a curtain, and presently Father Jerome 
 entered the chamber, and approached the royal seat. 
 The duke recognized the monk at once, and the look 
 upon his face showed that a feeling of uneasiness was 
 beginning to move him. Father Jerome, when he had 
 bowed to the king, turned his eyes upon Conrad du 
 Nord. There was a slight quiver of frame, and his 
 lips were compressed ; but he betrayed no further emo- 
 tion. , 
 
 "Good father," said Theobald, "before we make any 
 accusation against this young man, we would hear the 
 story you have to tell." 
 
 " Sire," replied the Benedictine, " the laws of the land, 
 and the command of my king, loosen my tongue. What 
 I am forced to reveal is this : Some three or four-and- 
 twenty years ago there was formed in Vannes a most 
 deadly plot against the life of the king. Foremost 
 among the conspirators was Marceau, a count and a 
 general ; and Marcelline, the wife of Marceau, was as 
 deeply implicated as was her husband. Marcelline had 
 formerly been in the service of the queen, and she was 
 thus enabled to lay the plans for the entrance of the 
 conspirators into the royal palace. ■ But the foul con- 
 spiracy was discovered before the fatal blow could be 
 struck, and the conspirators were arrested and punished. 
 Marceau and Marcelline were doomed to death, and it 
 was furthermore decreed that all their family should 
 suffer death." 
 
 " Remember," interrupted the king, shuddering with 
 the memory of that terrible ordeal, " that this decree 
 was no fiat of mine. The laws of Brittany condemned 
 to death the children of those who raised their hands 
 against the life of the king. You understand this, my 
 lord duke ?" 
 
2o8 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 "Yes," replied Casimir, with an expression of painful 
 anxiety, " I understand that." 
 
 Theobald nodded to the monk, who thus proceeded .: 
 
 '' Marcelline had an infant son; only a few months old, 
 in whom her deepest love was centered. This child she 
 desired to save ; and by the 'assistance of a friend who 
 was high in power, she succeeded in accomplishing her 
 purpose. , The infant was borne away, and word was 
 given to the world that it had died. Sire, I was that 
 woman's spiritual comforter and confessor. . She con- 
 fessed to me what she had done, and I saw her infant 
 taken from her arms and borne away. Then the seal of 
 the confessional was upon my lips. The seal, is now 
 removed because there may be danger to the king." 
 
 " Do you know who bore that child away ?" asked 
 Theobald. 
 
 " Yes, sire ; I remember very well. It was a woman 
 then in the service of Mary of Anjou. Her name was 
 Marguerite." 
 
 " My son," said the king, turning to the prince, " have 
 you this woman in attendance ?" 
 
 " I have, sire." , 
 
 " Let her be introduced." 
 
 Marguerite was led into the royal presence by the 
 Benedictine, who went out after her. She knew that 
 she was before the king, for Jerome had prepared her 
 for the interview ; still she trembled violently, and when 
 she saw Conrad she would have sprung towards him, 
 had not the monk restrained her. 
 
 " Be careful," he whispered. *' Offend not the king. 
 If you Ibve your boy, make no demonstration here." 
 
 Conrad du Nord, when he saw the woman who had 
 been to him as a mother led into the chamber, grasped 
 the arm of Sir Philip for support. He was weak and 
 dizzy, and objects seemed whirling in mazy circles 
 
The Crash. 209 
 
 before him. The crash was upon him, and he felt the 
 quaking beneath his feet. 
 
 The Duke of Rennes stood like a block of stone, with 
 his arms tightly folded upon his breast. 
 
 "Woman," spoke Theobald, "do you know who I 
 am?" 
 
 " Yes, sire," she repUed, in a whisper ; « I know you 
 ! very well. I have not forgotten you." 
 
 " Look upon the man who -stands by your side — him 
 who just led you hither. Do you know him ?" 
 
 " Ilrememberliim, sire." 
 
 " Now turn and look upon the youth who stands by 
 the side of my captain. Do you know him ?" 
 
 " O my God ! yes." 
 
 '" Who is he ?" 
 
 " He is to me a son." 
 
 " You have reared him from infancy ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Who were his parents ?" 
 
 Marguerite clasped her hands over her eyes, and 
 quivered like a storm-riven reed. 
 
 " Speak woman ; who were his parents ?!' 
 
 " O, spaire me, sire !" 
 
 The monk whispered something into her ear. He 
 assured her that she need not fear for her boy ; and he 
 tried to make her understand that a prompt answer 
 would please the king. 
 
 . " O, sire, pardon me !" . she cried, sinking upon her 
 knees. ■' I could not refuse the work of mercy. I saved 
 the infant child of Marcelline from the red hands of the 
 executioner. I bore the infant away ; and the poor 
 mother died with a blessing for me upon her lips." 
 
 " And that child," said the king ; " where is it now ?" 
 ^ Marguerite struggled as though she were choking ; 
 and the monk was forced to support her. 
 
2IO The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " Answer," he wtiispered into her ear. " Excite not 
 the royal wrath. " 
 
 " Woman," cried Theobold, sternly, " listen to me, and 
 answer. If you speak truly, no harm shall befall you. 
 I will pardon you for the part you took against the weal 
 of the realm. Look upon the youth whom you have 
 reared to manhood. Is he whom you call Conrad, the 
 child you saved ?" 
 
 " Yes !" burst hysterically from Marguerite's lips ; 
 and ere the sound of her voice had died away, she sank 
 senseless into the monk's arms, and was borne from the 
 chamber. 
 
 The king started to his feet, and turned his gaze 
 upon Conrad du Nord. 
 
 " Young man, " he said, " I am almost sorry that I 
 ever saw you ; but I am still more sorry that both your 
 parents wera traiters of the blackest dye. If you know 
 the laws of Brittany, you know what your fate must be. 
 I have not the power to pardon you if I would. But I 
 will not repeat your sentence to-night. You shall have 
 time for thought and prayer, — Sir Philip, call some of 
 your men." 
 
 Thamar was nearest at hand, as had been provided 
 for by the prince ; and Thamar answered the call. 
 
 " Guardsman," resumed the monarch, as Thamarpre- 
 sented himself, " yonder man is your prisoner. Bear 
 him to a dungeon from which he cannot escape." 
 
 As Conrad was taken by the arm, to be led away, he 
 , cast a look upon the duke, but he could not catch- his 
 eye. Then he called upon him — 
 
 " My lord duke !" 
 
 Biit Casimer did not answer, he stood with his head 
 bowed, his face covered with his hands ; and his whole 
 frame convulsed. 
 
Fides Last Meal. 2 1 1 
 
 The unhappy youth- made no further effort. With a 
 groan that seemed to burst from the depths of a dying 
 heart, he bowed his head, and allowed Thamar to take 
 away his sword, and lead him from the room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 fides' last meal. 
 
 Midnight ! — cold, dark, and cheerless ! The heavy 
 door shuts with a thundering clang ; the ponderous 
 bolts are shot into their unyielding sockets ; and the 
 dull echoes die away into the stillness of death ! 
 
 Conrad du Nord is alone — a prisoner. " Great God !" 
 he cries, in shuddering tones, " have mercy upon me !" 
 His fall is terrible ; and for a time he is dizzy and faint. 
 Gradually his memory grasps the things o4 the past, 
 and he is able' to realize the horrors of the .situation to 
 which he had been brought. 
 
 Dark ! dark ! Not a ray of light. A sealed cavern 
 in the centre of the earth could not have been darker. 
 A narrow cejl, with walls of soHd rock ; the floor flinty 
 and rough. No chain — ^no couch ; — what can he want 
 of them ? 
 
 By and by the first paroxysm passes, and the youth 
 struggled up to sense and reason. Still he is faint and 
 sick for the blow has been almost mortal, even as it fell 
 upon the heart. 
 
 "And thus ends the dream!" groaned Conrad du 
 Nord to himself, as he stood with his hands clasped 
 upon his cold brow. " So fade away the bright pictures 
 of life ; and so opens the tomb, soon to close upon me 
 forevermore !" 
 
212 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 He thouglit of tlie old home among the mountains ; 
 of the happy hours spent in those wild solitudes ; of the 
 lessons of his old tutor ; of the love of his foster mother ; 
 and of the promises which his young heart had held ere 
 he knew the paths that led to other scenes. Then came 
 thoughts of the angel that had been thrown in his way. 
 His first whispering of Rosaline's name was with a thrill 
 of rapture ; but in a moment more the icy hand was 
 upon him, and he saw that she had led him to his 
 destruction. 
 
 " O," he cried, "if I had never seen her — " 
 
 He stopped, as though a pang had pierced his bosom. 
 In a few moments more he bowed his head, and gently 
 murmured, — 
 
 " Blessed angel, thou wert not to blame. Thou art 
 pure and true ; and I will hold the memory of thy love 
 to my heart as the most precious thing of earth ! It is 
 fate ! fate — O, I felt the coming of this blow. The duke 
 knew that.it might come. He must have known it. 
 And I am the offspring of condemned and executed 
 traitors, and I am myself " proscribed ! My blood is 
 tainted ; my name is blasted from oflf the book of the 
 realm !" 
 
 ^ And thus groaning he sank down upoq the flinty 
 floor, and bowed his face upon his hands. He was mur- 
 muring the name of Rosaline — ^bidding her farewell and 
 blessing her-— when he heard a sound near his door — a 
 sound as though some one were withdrawing the bolts. •: 
 He started to his feet, and presently the door was slowly 
 opened, and faint rays of light beamed into the cell. , 
 
 "Conrad !" spoke a voice. 
 
 " I am here," replied the prisoner. He spoke quickly, . 
 for he thought he recognized the tones. 
 
 .The light grew brighter as the visitor drewthe ciir- 
 tain from his lanternj and Conrad soon recognized the 
 
Fides' Last Meal. 213 
 
 duke. Casimer placed the lantern upon the floor, and 
 extended his hand. He trembled violently, and the 
 lines of deep agony were upon his face. For some 
 moments neither spoke. The duke howeverj at length 
 broke the silence : 
 
 "-Conrad, I have come to ofEer you the last token of 
 friendship I may ever, have opportunity to extend to 
 you. I hope that you have not cursed me. I know how 
 sadly I have been deceived, and how terribly my mis- 
 take has been visited upon yourself. But I never 
 dreamed of this." 
 
 " Ah, my lord," said Conrad reproachfully, " tell me 
 not that. I have not cursed you — I will not curse you ; 
 but you must not deceive me longer. You have feared 
 from the first that this blow might come." 
 
 " Conrad, — ^what mean you ?" ■ , 
 
 " You have, from the first, been fearful that the blast- 
 ing curse might rest upon my family name." 
 
 " My dear boy, you accuse me wrongfully. If you 
 mean that I had any suspicions of this terrible result 
 which has burst upon us, you are entirely mistaken." 
 
 " Then why," cried Conrad, " did you hesitate in your 
 promises to me ? Why did you reserve your final word 
 of decision until after this trial ? Why did you put me 
 off with such mysterious words ? Why did you refuse 
 to allow your child to speak my sentence ? Ah, my lord, 
 in all your dealings with me you have had in view the 
 possibility of this awful result." 
 
 •-/'Conrad," replied the duke, speaking slowly and 
 earnestly, " you entirely misjudge me. Be calm now, 
 and listen while I tell you the truth. Circumstances 
 entirely beyond my control brought you into the com- 
 panionship of my daughter. You loved her before 
 my consent could be asked. You remember when you 
 came tome and told of your love, I knew that your 
 
2 14 T^''^ Fortunes of Conrad.^ 
 
 affection was deep and pure, and tliat my child returned 
 it. This was the first appeal you had made to me. 
 How was I to answer ? By the laws of our nobility, had 
 you been but a nameless mountaineer, I could not have 
 given you Rosaline's hand. I say that I could not,* 
 because the king could have prevented it had he seen 
 fit. But I had a strange hope that you might prove to 
 be of gentle blood. I thought I saw it in your face. I 
 fancied that I could trace lineaments there which were 
 like fliose of one of my earliest and best friends. I saw 
 Francisco, and from him I learned that your father was 
 a soldier ; and he left me to conclude thatlie was also 
 an ofiicer of rank. Had your old tutor told me that 
 your father died ignominiously ; or had he even left it 
 possible for me to suspect such a thing, I should not 
 have held out to you the lamp .of hope. But Francisco 
 deceived me. He told me that your father died upon 
 the field of battle. 
 
 " Now, my son, reflect calmly upon the subject. You 
 came to me, and told me of your love. I loved you, and 
 I honored you ; and it was my earnest desire that my 
 daughter might be blessed with a husband as true and 
 brave as you had proved yourself. I could not refuse 
 you ; for I did sincerely believe that you were of noble 
 origin. I had reason to believe so. Still there was a 
 mystery which I could not wholly penetrate, but I had 
 faith to believe that I could penetrate it after a time. 
 You asked me to give the decision of your fate into 
 the hands of my daughter. It seems that a shadow of the " 
 coming event even then rested upon your soul." 
 
 Conrad shuddered, but made no reply. 
 
 " There was no such shadow, upon my soul, my son. 
 You look incredulous. What I tell you is true. I 
 refused your request because I have made it a rule of 
 my life not to blindly promise anything. , When I hesi- 
 
Fides' Last Meal. 215 
 
 tated to speak the pledge you sought, I fully believed 
 that you would be my daughter's husband. I never 
 dreamed of this terrible thing which has come to light." 
 
 " I believe ^ou, my lord," said the youth ; " and I 
 have no wish to blame you. I have almost cursed the 
 fate which led me into this dark pit ; but even that 
 curse I wish not to repeat. The die is cast, and all is 
 over !" 
 
 " But all is not lost, Conrad. I can place you where I 
 found you. Of course I cannot give you — I cannot link 
 the name of " 
 
 " Hold, my lord ! There is no need that you should 
 speak those words. I am not a blind dolt. The name 
 of thenoble must not be contaminated. The fate of the 
 angel of light must not be linked with the fate of the 
 proscribed thild of condemned and executed traitors ! 
 O, my God !" 
 
 " Conrad !" cried the duke, drawing the youth's head 
 upon his shoulder, " I pray you give not up to such 
 gloomy fancies. In the years to come you may forget 
 this blow — ^you may live to outgrow it. You do not feel 
 the blood of the traitor moving in your veins ; and under 
 the judgment of God there is no crime upon your hands. 
 In some far-off land, with Francisco and Marguerite 
 still to bear you company, you may once more step 
 forth into bold life, and be free and happy." 
 
 " How ?" asked the youth, moving back a pace. " Am 
 I not a prisoner ? condemned ?" 
 
 " I have come to set you free. By the utmost exer- 
 tion of my power I have gained the keys of this dun- 
 geon ; and I can lead you forth, and set you free. I 
 can send a guard with you as far as the confines of 
 Aniou ; and when you are once within the dominions of 
 the duke John, you will be safe. Come— rthere is no 
 time to be lost. Of course you will accept this last 
 
2i6 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 proof of my friendship -, for I do assure you that I risk 
 much in the deed." 
 
 "Aye," responded our hero, grasping the duie's hand, 
 " I shall accept. I am not afraid of death in a good 
 cause ; but I cannot die thus. I will go with you." 
 
 " Then follow me at once. You have one other friend 
 in the palace, and he has left tte way clear for us." 
 
 Conrad supposed that other friend to be Sir Philip de 
 Savenay ; but he asked no questions upon the.subject. 
 
 As he took the duke's arm to leave the cell, he said : 
 
 " You spoke of Francisco and Marguerite." 
 
 "Yes, my son. They will join you in Anjou." 
 
 " Poor Marguerite ! how did they drag the story from 
 her ?" 
 
 " It is a puzzle to me, Conrad. I cannot comprehend 
 it. But you may be assured that she could'not help it. 
 I think she would have died for you." 
 
 " I know she must have been forced to it." 
 
 "Aye — and more than that," added Casimir : "She 
 must have been promised that no harm should come to^ 
 you. I know that she was so promised. But she can 
 tell you all when you see her. Step carefully. These 
 are dubious ways, aad but little trod by the citizens of 
 the upper world." 
 
 The duke had picked up his lantern, and led Conrad 
 from the cell ; and after winding through many damp, 
 dark passages, they arrived at a landing where stood a 
 guard. The guardsman turned his back, and the duke 
 passed him without speaking. 
 - " Sir Philip helps ns," whispered the youth. 
 
 " Hush !" returned Casimir. " Speak not the name 
 of one who may be compibmised. Philip de Savenay is 
 a good man and' true." 
 
 Up to another floor — through passages broader than 
 those below — out into a paved court, and- at length Con- 
 
Fides' Last Meal. 2 1 7 
 
 rad stood in the open air, witli a copse of mulberry 
 trees between hipi and the place he had left. The stars 
 were gleaming brightly overhead, and a gentle breeze, 
 comitig Tip from the murmuring sea, gave new impulse 
 to his lungs, and bore to his senses something of return- 
 ing vigor. 
 
 " It is now past midnight— an hour past," said the 
 duke, " and you must cross the Villaine before morning. 
 Here is Nicolas with six good men, to bear you com- 
 pany, and you may rely upon them. I think you have 
 nothing further to wait for. J have done all I can." 
 
 Conrad saw the men who were to accompany him ; 
 but he did not yet turn to join them. He cast an 
 imploring look upon the duke, and breathed the na'me 
 of Rosaline. 
 
 " No ! no !" gasped Casimir. 
 
 " You will bear to her one word from me ?" 
 
 " I will tell her that you are safe ; and beyond that I 
 may need all my strength to support and sustain her. 
 For your own sake, Conrad, turn your thoughts from 
 her. Do not force me to " 
 
 " Enough !" cried the youth, putting out his hand. 
 " I thank you fqr what you have done. Farewell !" 
 
 The duke grasped his hand ; held it a moment in 
 both his own ; and then, with a whisper of blessing, he 
 turned and hurried away. Conrad was growing faint 
 and dizzy again ; but the voice of Nicolas called him 
 back to sense ; and, with a mighty eifort, he started 
 up and threw off the influence that was crushing him. 
 
 down. 
 
 "Come, my brother," said the captain, laying his 
 hand kindly upon the youth's arm. "We have a long 
 road before us, and we have need of expedition. Here 
 is your sword. The duke left it for you." 
 
 Conrad first grasped the hand of his friend ; and then 
 
2 1 8 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 he grasped the faithful sword ; and when the honest 
 blade once more hung upon his hip he felt stronger. 
 " Lead on, good Nicolas. I am ready to follow." 
 Down by the seashore, where the soft sand drank up 
 the heavy fall of the hoofed feet, they found the horses ; 
 and ere long they w^ere speeding away from the city. 
 One last look Conrad du Nord turned upon the turrets 
 and spires of the capital, as they grew dim and indis- 
 tinct, in the gloomy distance ; and then, with a blessed 
 name upon his lips, and a faintly murmured farewell, 
 he put spurs to his horse and bade Nicolas to lead as 
 swiftly as he pleased. 
 
 The king was weak and hungry. He had not eaten 
 his supper when the prince brought the startling case 
 before him ; and he had had no time to eat it since. 
 He had given to Bertrand an order for the private execu- 
 tion of the son of Marceau and Marcelline ; and when 
 he was left alone he called his page. 
 
 " Ponce, what is the hour ?" 
 
 " It is past midnight, sire." 
 
 " Never mind — I must eat before I sleep." 
 
 " Your supper is in your closet, sire." 
 
 " I will retire thither and eat it. You may put out 
 these lights, and keep watch here until I call you." 
 
 Theobald found a single lamp burning in the closet, 
 and his bread and milk were upon the table. Fides 
 heard his master's step, and scratched and whined most 
 anxiously ; for he was not used to going so long without 
 his supper. He was quickly admitted, . however, and 
 as soon as the meal was prepared, he devoured it 
 voraciously. 
 
 " Poor Fides," said the king, as the dog lapped up the 
 last of the bread and the milk, " it may be that you will 
 
Fides Last Meal. 219 
 
 outlive me. A surer hand than any of earth may be 
 laid upon me — " 
 
 Theobald was cuti short in his reflections by the dog's 
 leaping up into his lap. 
 
 " Down ! down, Fides. I am tired to-night, and feel 
 not like play." 
 
 The animal crouched upon the floor ; and presently 
 he began to dig with his claws as though he suffered 
 pain. He groaned and struggled, and started up and 
 ran across the room ; and when he lay down again, 
 there was froth upon his lips, and his eyes seemed start- 
 ing from their sockets. A few moments more, atid 
 then came another paroxysm more severe. It was a 
 painful scene — a terrible scene. The third struggle 
 ended, and the dog crawled upon his side, and rested 
 his head upon his master's feet, and there died ! 
 
 By and by the king gained Strength enough to drag 
 the body of the dead dog away, and to call his page. 
 
 " Ponce, this is excellent bread — the best I have eaten 
 for many a day. Do you know who made it ?" 
 
 " I think you have a new cook, sire." 
 
 " Ah — I was not aware of it." 
 
 " Yes, sire. The old cook is sick." 
 
 " And who furnished the new one ?" 
 
 " The prince." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " Are you faint, sire ?" 
 
 " No, no. Ponce. Get thee gone. I shall want you no 
 more to-night. It is excellent bread !" 
 
 The page went away ; and the king bowed his head 
 upon the table, and wept like a child. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 OLD FRIENDS. ' 
 
 Almost as soon as the day ha4 dawned, prince Ber- 
 trand presented himself at the office of the royal guard, . 
 with the order for the immediate and private execution 
 of Conrad du Nord. He was to see the deed done. A 
 lieutenant took the keys, and went with him down into 
 the dungeon ; but the place was empty. 
 
 " This is not the cell," said the prince. 
 
 " This is certainly the cell, my lord." 
 
 " Then where is the prisoner ?" 
 
 The guardsman was bewildered. He could tell 
 nothing about it. 
 
 " How long have you been on guard ?" asked Ber- 
 trand. 
 
 " Since four o'clock." 
 
 " How long were those on whom you relieved ?" 
 
 " Four hours, from midnight." 
 
 " By the gods !" cried Bertrand, stamping his foot, 
 and gnashing his teeth, " if the prisoner has been led 
 away, it must have been done during that time. But let 
 us look." 
 
 All the cells in_^that depth were examined, but no pris- 
 oner was found. Then the prince hastened back to the 
 office with the lieutenant, and called for the captain. 
 But the captain was not at hand. 
 
Old Friends. 221 
 
 '' How many sentinels were there in and about the 
 prison ?" demanded the prince. 
 
 " The lieutenant said there were ten." 
 
 " Let those ten who were on from midnight until four 
 o'clock this morning be instantly summoned." 
 
 The summons was sent ; but the men were not found. 
 
 " They should be in their beds at this hour," said the 
 -lieutenant ; " but they are not there ; and their beds 
 have not been touched during the night." 
 
 " Then by heaven ! they have deserted !" exclaimed 
 Bertrand, gasping as he spoke. 
 
 " It looks like it, my lord." 
 
 The prince rushed out, and in the court he met one of 
 his father's ushers, the sight of whom caused him, for a 
 moment, to forget the errand he had started upon. 
 
 "Ah — ^fellow — ^here! Have you seen the king this 
 morning ?" 
 
 " No, my lord," replied the usher, bowing respect- 
 fully. 
 
 " I fear my father is not well. He looked sick and 
 faint when I left him last night." 
 
 The usher passed on, and Bertrand hurried away to 
 the office of the palace guard, where he assured himself 
 that all the sentinels who had held watch in the prison 
 during the last half of the night had run away. He flew 
 from place to place, like one possessed, and in less than 
 half an hour he had gained considerable information 
 Three things he knew well enough. First : Conrad du 
 Nord had escaped. Second : The Duke of Rennes had 
 assisted him. Third : He had gone with horses and 
 
 friends. 
 
 " I do much suspect," muttered the prince to himself, 
 ' that Sir Philip de Savenay has lent his aid to this ; but 
 I will not accuse him yet ; I will find the fugitives first, 
 and I will deal with him afterwards." 
 
2 22 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 As he thus muttered, Pbins came in with a report. 
 He had met some fishermen just beyond the wall, who 
 had declared that they saw, about an hour past midnight, , 
 a party of horsemen dashing off over the sands toward j; 
 the Villaine road. 
 
 A few more reports were brought in ; and then the 
 prince sent for Thamar, who quickly answered his call. 
 
 " Thamar, how many of the royal guard can you 
 count upon as trufe to me ?" 
 
 " All whom you have helped to the position, my lord ; 
 certainly a score of them." 
 
 " You have your commission as lieutenant ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Suppose I should show you an order from the king 
 commanding the arrest of Conrad du Nord, and that I 
 should bid you to apprehend him ?" 
 
 " I should obey you, my lord." 
 
 " Then look ye ; The case is ten times more emphatic 
 than that. A prisoner, whom the king had condemned 
 to death for high treason, has escaped. Can you call 
 twenty of the royal guard, and give pursuit ?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 " Then away at once. You know the man. It is 
 Conrad du Nord ; and I think that some of the duke's 
 guard are with him. If Casimir has directed him to a 
 place of safety, I think I risk nothing in deciding that 
 that place is Anjou. With this clue let your wits serve 
 you. Spare not your horses. Change them as often as 
 you can. Ride for your lives. Aye — my good Thamar, 
 ride for the place of power which Sir Philip de Savenay 
 now occupies ! Do you understand me ?" 
 
 " My lord, if Conrad du Nord lives, look to see him 
 back in Vannes when I return ; and I will return as 
 quickly as possible. I will eat and sleep in the saddle, 
 until T find him." 
 
Old Friends. 223 
 
 " Good ! Away now ; and if you bring the prisoner 
 back as you promise, the reward I have spoken of may 
 be nearer than you imagine." 
 
 Within half an hour from that time, Thamar had 
 ;^laced himself at the head of five-and-twenty stout 
 guardsmen, and was galloping out from the city. 
 
 Conrad du Nord found good horses in his train, and 
 before daylight he had crossed the Villaine ; and, just 
 as the sun was rising, he reached the hamlet of 
 Chenay, where he concluded to stop and get break- 
 fast. 
 
 " We will eat, and change horses here," said Nicolas ; 
 " and then be on our way again. We shall not be long 
 detained." 
 
 A small inn was found, where the seal of the duke 
 brought forth promise of the horses, and where a good 
 meal could be readily prepared. While the host was 
 making ready in the kitchen, Conrad threw himself into 
 an easy-chair, and closed his eyes. He had fallen away 
 into a dreamy slumber, when he was aroused by feel- 
 ing a hand upon his shoulder, and hearing his name 
 pronounced. He started up, and beheld Francisco stand- 
 ing by his side. 
 
 " My father !" he cried, springing to his feet, and rub- 
 bing his eyes. 
 
 " Conrad, my boy !" echoed the old tutor. 
 
 " Is it really Francisco ?" 
 
 " Certainly it is. By my life, this is a strange meeting. 
 I was just waking from a curious dream when the 
 horses came rattling into the court ; and upon going 
 to the window 1 saw your very self getting dovfrn from 
 the saddle ; and can you wonder, my boy, that I made 
 all'baste to meet you ?" 
 
224 The Fortunes of Conrati. 
 
 " It was natural that you should. But tell me, Fran- 
 cisco—why are you here ?" 
 
 " I have started for Vannes, my boy. Your kind old 
 mother, Marguerite, has been stolen away from us ; and 
 I think she has been carried thither. Ah — I see by 
 your face, that this is no news to you. What have you 
 to tell ? I am very anxious, Conrad." 
 
 " I have much to tell," replied our hero, motioning 
 his old tutor to a seat. They were alone, Nicolas hav- 
 ing gone to look after the horses, while the rest ctf the 
 party were in the kitchen. 
 
 " I have much to tell," repeated Conrad, resuming his 
 seat. " Listen to me, for I am going to startle you." 
 
 And thereupon the youth went on to tell of all that 
 had befallen him since he left the castle of Rennes. He 
 told of the coming of Sir Philip ; of the arrival at 
 Vannes ; of the first interview of Casimer with the 
 king ; of the complaint which the prince entered ; of 
 the attack of Pluton ; of the coming of the last sum- 
 mons ; of the startling disclosures made by Father 
 Jerome ; of the introduction of Marguerite, and of her 
 story ; of his condemnation and imprisonment ; and of 
 the coming of the duke to set him free. At first the 
 old man had been deeply affected ; but he managed to 
 control himself until the narrative reached, the dis- 
 closures of the monk, and the corroborating testimony 
 of Marguerite. At this point he shook convulsively, , 
 and seemed almost inclined to doubt the truth of the 
 story. 
 
 " Did Marguerite tell that ?" he asked, when he could 
 controlyhis speech. 
 
 " Yes. But, Francisco, I am sure that she had been 
 promised that it should do me no hanh. She fainted 
 before the king, and was racked with mortal agony. I 
 cannot blame her." 
 
Old Friends. 225 
 
 The hermit asked many questions touching the doings 
 of the prince, the speech of the king, the appearance of 
 Father Jerome, and the movements of the duke ; and 
 when he had made himself familiar with all the details, 
 he arose and commenced to pace the room. 
 
 Conrad was upon the point of speaking further, when 
 the host looked into the room, and announced that 
 breakfast was ready. 
 
 " Let us move quickly," said Nicolas, appearing upon 
 the threshold as the host turned away. " The horses 
 will be ready for us. Ah — whom have we here ?" 
 
 "This is Francisco,— ^my tutor and guardian," replied 
 our hero/ And then turning the other way, he added, 
 " And this is Nicolas, the captain of the duke's guard." 
 
 " Let there be no haste," said Francisco, after he had 
 embraced the captain. " Conrad must not leave this 
 place until he sees another friend." 
 
 " But, my good sir," interposed Nicolas, "you know 
 not what you say. We are " 
 
 " I know all," said the old man, interrupting him. 
 " Conrad has told me the whole story ; and I must bid 
 him wait. There is one coming who may help him." 
 
 " Ah," uttered the captain, shaking his head, " a stop 
 here may ruin all his hopes of escape." 
 
 "And yet," pursued Francisco, resolutely, "he must 
 wait. The Abbot of Saint Aubin will be here in a very 
 short time. He must see the abbot." 
 
 At the mention of that name the captain's resolution 
 was shaken. 
 
 " Is good old Dagobert coming ?" asked Conrad. 
 
 " Yes. He stopped at Saint Eustace last night, and 
 will join me here this morning. But your breakfast is 
 waiting. jEat, and we will converse afterwards." 
 
 Conrad followed the captain to the kitchen, and after 
 
226 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 the meal was eaten he rejoined his tutor, whom he 
 found pacing up and down the court in front of the inn. 
 
 " I wish much to see old Dagobert ; and yet to tarry 
 here is dangerous," said the youth, after Francisco had 
 once more bidden him to wait. 
 
 " Conrad," spoke the hermit, stopping, and resting his 
 hand upon the boy's arm, " I would not willingly lead 
 you into danger. Do as I bid you." 
 
 " But, father we shall be pursued. Even now the 
 royal guardsmen may be upon my track ; and if they 
 overtake us, they will come in a force which may not be 
 resisted. Remember, it is not now the prince who 
 strikes ; it is the king !" 
 
 " You can tell me nothing which I do not already 
 understand," returned Francisco. " Heaven sent this 
 meeting." 
 
 Conrad started at these words, and a wild hope flashed 
 up in his bosom. 
 
 "Answer me one question," he cried, grasping the 
 old man by the arm. " Did the monk tell the truth ?" 
 
 " In what ?" 
 
 "In saying that I was the child of those traitorous 
 parents." 
 
 " Dagobert can tell you of that better than I can." 
 
 " Beware, Francisco ! O, if you give- me reason to 
 hope thus, and the spark should die' out- -" 
 
 " Wait and see the abbot!" spoke the old man, slowly, 
 and meaningly. " You must not leave this place until 
 he comes." 
 
 " I shall obey you." 
 
 At that moment Nicolas came up and announced that 
 the horses would be ready in a very few*minutes. 
 
 " Let them wait," said Conrad. " I must remain here 
 and see the Abbot of Saint Aubin." 
 
 " But, good Conrad, have you counted the cost ?" 
 
Old Friends. 227 
 
 " I have counted everything, Nicolas — and I will 
 wait." 
 
 The captain turned an inquiring glance upon Fran- 
 cisco, who quickly added : 
 
 " The boy is right. He must see Dagobert." 
 
 " Then I hold myself above all blame," said Nicolas, 
 not at all reconciled to the arrangement. 
 
 " T am responsible," answered Conrad. He spoke 
 promptly ; and yet there was a strange flutter of uncer- 
 tainty and anxiety in his bqsom. When the captain had 
 gone he turned to his old tutor, and asked him if he 
 would answer one more question. 
 
 "Ask what you please," replied Francisco. 
 
 " If the monk spoke falsely, then Marguerite spoke 
 falsely, also." 
 
 " And yet they may both have been mistaken. Wait 
 until you see the abbot." 
 
 They waited two hours. Nicolas was in torture, for 
 he knew that the king's guard could readily trace them. 
 He had approached our hero, to remonstrate against 
 tarrying longer, when Francisco came with the 
 announcement that the abbot had arrived. 
 
 The venerable prelate entered the room with a firm 
 step, and as Conrad hastened to meet him he smiled 
 benignantly, and invoked a blessing upon his youthful 
 head. The presence of the white-haired old abbot 
 gave great relief to the captain, who pressed forward 
 to greet >im with reverence and love ; for the good 
 man upon whose sympathetic heart rested the 
 experience of almost a century, was well known at the 
 
 "Now," said Dagobert, when he had taken a seat, 
 " what is this I hear ? Francisco has just been telling 
 me something which deeply interests me. Conrad, 
 
228 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 wliat have they been doing to you ? Let me have the 
 story." 
 
 Our hero related to the abbot the circumstances of 
 his adventures as he had related them to his tutor ; 
 and he had just concluded when one of the men-at-arms 
 came rushing into the apartment with the intelligence 
 that a large body of mounted' men were approaching." 
 the hamlet from the direction of Vannes. 
 
 Nicolas started up and hastened out ; and very soon 
 came back again. 
 
 " It is a detachment of the royal guard !" he said ; 
 " and Thamar leads them." 
 
 " Hold !" spoke Dagobert, as Conrad started to his 
 feet. " Who is this Thamar ?" 
 
 " He is a lieutenant of the king's guard," replied 
 Nicolas ; " but a tool of prince Bertrand's." 
 
 " How many are there ? asked Conrad. 
 
 " More than a score of them." 
 
 " I must not be taken. I will die here — " 
 
 " My son," said the abbot, taking the youth by the 
 hand, " you have nothing to fear. If this Thamar has 
 come to. take you back to Vannes, go with him quietly. 
 I will accompany you." 
 
 " One word," cried Conrad, turning and seizing the 
 old man's hand. " Francisco said you would tell. Did 
 Father Jerome speak truly ?" 
 
 " He did not .'" replied Dagobert, calmly. 
 
 Conrad du Nord staggered as though beneath a stun- 
 ning blow. 
 
 " O, can you prove it ?" he gasped. 
 
 " I can prove that, and much more," said the. abbot. 
 And then, taking' both the youth's hands in his own, 
 and speaking in a gentle, persuasive tone, he added— - 
 " I love you as I would love my own child ; and yet I 
 say unto thee, go back with me to Vannes !" 
 
Old Friends. 229 
 
 The youth was completely overcome by conflicting 
 emotions ; but he had confidence in the abbot, and he 
 consented to obey him. 
 
 " But how is it with us ?" asked Nicolas. 
 
 " I answer for all," repHed Dagobert. 
 
 In a few moments more a loud tramp was heard in 
 the court, and very soon Thamar, followed closely by a 
 dozen of his men, entered the apartment, 
 
 " Conrad du Nord," he said, drawing his sword, " I 
 arrest, you in the king's name !" 
 
 " You may put up your sword, sir lieutenant," returned 
 our hero ; " for I shall go with you quietly and uncon- 
 ditionally." The presence of the armed men called him 
 back to conscious pride, and he spokp calmly and 
 bravely. 
 
 Thamar was evidently surprised at the coolness of the 
 
 prisoner, who, he supposed, must know that he was 
 
 :. going back to certain death ; but he received the token 
 
 of surrender with a bow, and then turned to Nicolas, 
 
 - remarking. 
 
 " And you, too, captain, with your followers, I arrest." 
 
 Nicolas bowed, and signified that he should offer no 
 resistance to the king's oflScers, simply adding : 
 
 " Since we surrender unconditionally, I presume that 
 we are to be respectfully treated." 
 
 Thamar was a soldier ; and he had a respect for 
 brave men ; so he had no disposition to be unneces- 
 sarily severe. His only orders had been to take 
 the prisoner ; and this he would do ; and he was 
 glad, too, that he could do it so easily, for he had 
 expected much trouble. 
 
 " Sir lieutenant,""said the abbot, pointing to Francisco, 
 " this good brother and myself are going to Vannes ; 
 and we would ride in your company. I trust that you 
 \ will have no objections." 
 
The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Thamar recognized the cross of Saint Aubin, and he 
 bowed respectfully. 
 
 " You are welcome, holy father." 
 
 " Thank you, my son. I will go out and see that my, 
 horse is ia readiness." 
 
 In the court Dagobert met a yeoman who had accom- 
 panied him from Saint Aubin. 
 
 "Pierre," he said, speaking lowly and quickly, " you 
 have a fleet horse, and a stout heart. Haste thee to 
 Vannes with all speed, so as to get there well in advance 
 of this troop. Seek Sir Philip de Savenay, and bid him 
 come forth and meet us on the road. Do you under- 
 stand ?" 
 
 " Yes, father." • 
 
 " Then away with you." 
 
 Ere long the yeoman was mounted, and the rate of 
 speed at which he dashed over the road gave token that 
 he duly appreciated the importance of his mission. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 The day was drawing to its close as Thamar 
 approached Vannes with his prisoners. He turned to 
 one of his men, as he beheld the spires of the city, and 
 remarked that he had not calculated upon so speedy a 
 return. 
 
 " The prince will not look for us to-night," he added. 
 
 " No," responded the other. " His highness probablyr 
 thinks we are still on the pursuit." ' ' 
 
 " Very likely," returned Thamar ; " for I told him we 
 
Conclusion. 231 
 
 should not probably reacli the fugitives until this day- 
 had gone. Ha ! — who comes there ? It is our captain, 
 as I live ; and he has a squadron of the guard with him. 
 What means this ?" 
 
 " Look !" cried the other speaker. " The old abbot 
 is going to meet him." 
 
 It was as had been said. As soon as Sir Philip 
 appeared in the distance, Dagobert" who had been rid- 
 ing well in advance of the cavalcade, put spurs to his 
 horse, and soon joined the knight, with whom he entered 
 into an earnest conversation. 
 
 Sir Philip had stopped when the abbot reached him, 
 and he waited there until the lieutenant came up. 
 
 " How now, Thamar," he said, riding in front of his 
 subaltern, •' you have prisoners ?" 
 
 The officer could not bring himself to offer slight to 
 his captain, however much he may have wished to pass 
 him with his prize. 
 
 " I have prisoners. Sir Philip ; and I am conducting 
 them to the city." 
 
 " Do you conduct them to the king ?" 
 
 " The order for their arrest was from the king ; but I 
 do not report to him." 
 
 " Ah, — to whom do you report ?" 
 
 " To him through whom the order came." 
 
 " You mean the prince ?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Thamar, reluctantly. 
 
 " Then," said Sir Philip, with an authoritative nod of 
 the head, " I will relieve you of your charge." 
 
 " How ! Relieve me ?" gasped the lieutenant, blankly. 
 
 " Yes " replied the captain, with another nod, " I will 
 take the prisoners directly to the king." 
 
 "But, Captain, I have my orders." 
 
 " From whom ?" demanded Sir Philip, sternly, 
 
 "From the prince." 
 
232 The Fortunes^ of Conrad. 
 
 " Does tiie prince command tlie royal guard ?" 
 
 " But the order was issued by the king." 
 
 " And to the king these prisoners shall straightway 
 be carried ; so rest you easy on that score." And then 
 Sir Philip added, in a lower tone, and with a look of 
 deep meaning : 
 
 " Thamar, follow not the whelp until the lion is dead!" 
 
 The lieutenant trembled from head to foot ; and with- 
 out further remonstrance he resigned his command to 
 his superior, and fell back with his troops 
 
 Sir Philip, as soon as Thamar had retired, turned to 
 the old abbot, and asked him several questions, which 
 were answered in detail and to the point. 
 
 " I understand it now," the gallant knight said, smit-v 
 ing his fist upon the pommel of his saddle, while a 
 bright glow irradiated his features. " By Saint Michael ! 
 it is wonderful ! You were thoughtful, father, to send 
 for me." 
 
 " I had wit enough to see the necessity of that. Sir 
 Philip. Have you seen the duke ?" '- ■ 
 
 " Not to speak with him. But he is at his house." 
 
 " He must be at the palace." 
 
 " So he shall be." And thus speaking. Sir Philip 
 turned to his attendants and beckoned one of them for- .< 
 ward. 
 
 " Go to the Duke of Rennes, and bid him to repair at 
 once to the royal palace, . and there await my coming. 
 Also bid him, if he can, to take Marguerite with him; 
 Hurry away, and let your spurs drip if need be." 
 
 It was well into the evening when the King of Brit-" 
 tany was informed by his page that he was wanted in 
 the audience chamber. He sat by his table, with his 
 brow resting upon his hands ; and one would have said, 
 upon first beholding him, that he was d3^ng. All he 
 had eaten for four-and-twenty hours had been .a few 
 
Conclusion. 233 
 
 crusts wHch had been drying and mouldering in his 
 cupboard for weeks ; and his only beverag'e had been of. 
 the water that had been brought to him for washing. 
 
 "Who wants me ?" he asked. 
 
 " The Duke of Rennes sent me for you, sire." 
 
 « Is he alone ?" 
 
 " No. There are several with him. Your captain is 
 "there, with the young man called Conrad du Nord " 
 
 "Ha !" 
 
 " And a white-haired old man, whom I judge to be 
 the Ablaot of Saint Aubin." 
 
 " What !" cried Theobald, starting to his feet ; " is it 
 Dagobert ?" 
 
 " That is his name, sire." 
 
 " I will go at once. O, good Dagobert, I have need of 
 thee !" 
 
 -Without further delay the king repaired to his cham- 
 ber of private audience, which he found well lighted, 
 and where he saw the duke and Sir Philip, and the 
 : young prisoner, and the woman. Marguerite, and sev- 
 eral others ; but the one towards whom he moved with 
 quick impulse was the Abbot of Saint Aubin. 
 
 "Dagobert! Dagobert!" he cried, "I am glad you 
 have come !" And as he spoke he fairly sank upon the 
 aged prelate's bosom, as though he expected to find a 
 protector there. 
 . "Sire," spoke the abbot, after he had blessed the 
 " kiiig, "if I can be of service to you, you may command 
 me • 'but first I have a matter of most pressing moment 
 to present to your majesty. Can you listen to me ?" 
 
 "Yes Dagobert. You may command me, if you 
 
 ^ "?irst, sire— do you recognize these people who are 
 C with me ?" 
 
234 1^^^ Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Theobald ran his eye over those present, and hesi- 
 tated not until he came to Francisco. 
 
 " Him I know not ; and yet I think I have seen him." 
 
 " He was for many years in the service of your 
 brother Charles. His name is Francisco." 
 
 "Ah — I know him now. And where has he been 
 during this long time ?" 
 
 " You shall know that anoii, sire." 
 
 Dagobert led the king to his chair of state, and then 
 continued : 
 
 " This youth, whom men call Conrad du Nord, has 
 been once ere this before your majesty ; and I am able 
 to inform you that, in the examination which then took 
 place, a most- fatal error was committed ; and I have 
 now come to reveal the truth. Will you know it, sire ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " But suppose it should cast a mortal stain upon one 
 near and dear to you ?" 
 
 " I would not trouble the sleeping dead, holy father." 
 
 " I speak of the living, sire." 
 
 " Then you mistake," said Theobald, with a sad shake 
 of the head. " I have no near and dear one living !" 
 
 A look of relief rested upon Dagobert's face. 
 
 " Will you send for the prince, and also for. Father 
 Jerome?" 
 
 A messenger was despatched, and ere long Bertrand 
 entered the chamber. He stopped when he saw those 
 who were assembled there ; and when his eye rested 
 upon Conrad du Nord, he stamped his foot with rage. 
 
 "How now!" he cried. "What mockery is this? 
 Why is the condemned traitor here, with his limbs free, 
 and a sword upon his hip ?" 
 
 " Hold, my son," interposed the abbot, raising tis 
 hand in a persuasive manner. " You shall be entirely 
 
Conclusion. 235 
 
 satisfied that all is right. Ah — ^here comes our brother 
 Jerome." 
 
 At that moment the Benedictine entered the cham- 
 ber ; and when he saw into what company he had 
 come, he was struck with blank astonishment. But he 
 quickly recognized his venerable superior, and rever- 
 ently saluted him. 
 
 "Jerome," said the abbot, seeming determined to 
 come at the business as speedily as possible, " you have 
 been summoned hither to witness the correcting of a 
 sad mistake, which you have made. Upon your testi- 
 naony this young man was pronounced the offspring of 
 base conspirators." 
 
 " Not upon mine alone, father." 
 
 " Your word condemned him, nevertheless." 
 
 " The testimony of Marguerite went with mine." 
 
 " Jerome," said the abbot, with some severity, " you 
 must not trifle with truth. How came Marguerite to 
 give her testimony ?" 
 
 The monk was silent. 
 
 "Did you not," continued Dagobert, "solemnly 
 promise her that no harm should come to the youth ?" 
 
 " Can that alter the weight of her confession ?" asked 
 Jerome, as though he would defend himself. 
 
 " We shall see. Marg^aerite, come hither." 
 
 The woman approached, trembling at every joint. 
 
 " My daughter," pursued the abbot, " answer me truly 
 what I shall ask. Circumstances have arisen which 
 render a loager concealment impossible, and I release 
 you from your vows. Why did you tell the king that 
 Conrad du Nord was the child of Marceau and Mar- 
 celline ?" 
 
 " I did not tell him so." 
 
 « How ?" demanded Theobald, with a start of sur- 
 
 prise. 
 
236 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 " When I was alone with Father Jerome and the 
 prince," continued Marguerite, quickly and eagerly, " I 
 ^ may have spoken thus falsely ; for I then hardly knew 
 what I said. They swore to me that no harm should 
 come to my boy if he proved to be the child of Mar- 
 celline. They said he should be sent out of the country. 
 So, to save him, I spoke as I did. I was keeping the 
 oath which I gave to his mother. But when I came 
 before the king I was more careful of my words. I 
 said that I bore away the infant child of Marcelline, 
 thus saving it from the hands of the executioner, which 
 was true. And then, sire," added the woman, bowing 
 before the king, " you asked me where that child was. , 
 I did not answer you — I could not. Directly you asked 
 me if Conrad du Nord was the child which I saved, and 
 I answered "you, yes. I spoke truly, for I saved both 
 the children." 
 
 " Both !" 
 
 "Hold, sire," interposed Dagobert, "I must speak 
 now. Listen to me, all of you, and I will clear away 
 this mystery. Will your majesty send for your secre- 
 tary, with instructions that he bring with him the 
 records of the realm as far back, as five-and-twenty 
 years." 
 
 A messenger was despatched, and while he was gone 
 all was silent in the audience chamber. The prince 
 chafed and fretted, and tore his fingers into the folds of 
 his doublet ; but he did not speak.. Conrad du Nord 
 stood by the side of Francisco, his heart throbbing till 
 its pulsations were distinctly audible ; for the moment * 
 was one of terrible interest to him. 
 
 By and by the secretary eame, beaming under his arm 
 two large books ; and when he had saluted the king, he 
 was directed to attend to the abbot. 
 
 "Lepidus,"_said the prelate, calling the secretary by 
 
Conclusion, 237 
 
 name, " I wish you to refer to your records, and inform 
 us when Marceau and Marcelline were executed." 
 
 The scribe opened one of his books, and when he had 
 found the record and calculated a while, he answered : 
 
 " The event occurred f our-and-twenty years and one 
 month ago." 
 
 " Four-and-twenty years and one month, you say ?" 
 
 " Yes, holy father." 
 
 " Now look and inform us when Mary of Anjou, the 
 wife of Duke Charles, died." 
 
 The secretary again referred to the record, and 
 answered : 
 
 " Mary of Anjou died three-and-twenty years ago, 
 lacking two months." 
 
 " So that," said Dagobert, " between the execution of 
 the conspirators and the death of Mary of Anjou, there 
 elapsed one year and three months ?" 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 
 "Sire — Sir Philip de Savenay-^-nay lord of Rennes," 
 pursued the abbot, "you were well acquainted with 
 the household of the duchess. Now tell me — when did 
 Margfuerite leave her employ ?" 
 
 " Marguerite was with the duchess to the last," said 
 Sir Philip. 
 
 " Aye," added the king, " I remember that I found 
 her kneeling by the dead body of the duchess, in the 
 chamber of mourning." 
 
 " And thus," pursued the abbot, " we have it clearly 
 proved that for over a year, at least, after the disap- 
 pearance of the child of Marcelline, Marguerite was 
 with Mary of Anjou." 
 
 " Good father," cried the king, with intense eager- 
 ness " what do you aim at ? Keep me not in the dark." 
 
 "Sir" replied Dagobert, while a strange shadow 
 
238 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 passed over his aged features, " prepare yourself for a 
 wonderful revelation." 
 
 " You cannot startle me, Dagobert." 
 
 " Be not too sure of that, sire. It is thus that I have 
 to speak." 1 
 
 The abbot moved a step forward, an.d then con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Four-Sand-twenty years ago, and two months over, 
 your wife, the Queen Theresa, gave birth to a son. 
 You were filled with joy, and all your people gave 
 thanks unto God. You had waited long years for an 
 heir, and you had even thought of putting away your 
 queen, when this happy event reconciled you to her. 
 But, while all was joy in your heart, a cloud came over 
 the gladness of Theresa. The infant fell sick, and she 
 knew that it must die. She Sent for me to come to her. 
 I was her confessor, and I had acted as her physician. 
 
 " The child was dying when I reached her ; and so I 
 told her. Then she asked me to- promise her that I 
 would keep the sickness of her infant a secret. Why 
 should I do that ? But she would not explain ; only she 
 begged me to promise. I did so. I assured her that I 
 would not speak of it without her consent. On the 
 following day I went again, and found Mary of Anjou, 
 and her serving- woman Marguerite, with the queen. 
 The infant was dead. It had just breathed its last, and 
 even then lay cold and still upon its mother's bosom. 
 Theresa sank upon her knees before me, and prayed 
 that I would keep her secret. I asked what secret she 
 meant. She answered me, that the king must not know 
 his son was dead. At least, she would have me speak 
 no word until she gave me permission. I consented to 
 this, and went away. 
 
 " At this same time, sire, the Count Marceau, and his 
 wife Marcelline, had been convicted and sentenced, and 
 
Conclusion. 239 
 
 all their family proscribed. Marcelline had been in the 
 service of the queen, and the queen loved her as a sister. 
 Even as the infant prince was dying the queen received 
 a note from Marcelline, containing these words : ' For 
 the love of Heaven save my infant child T Can you wonder, 
 sire, that a strange thought presented itself to the 
 queen's mind ? She feared to let you know that you 
 had no son. She did not stop to reflect ; she did not 
 seek my advice ; she only trusted the duchess and Mar- 
 guerite. Her own dead infant was taken away, and 
 Marguerite brought the child of Marcelline to take its 
 place ! A few short weeks after that the queen was 
 taken sick, and upon her death bed she confessed to me 
 what she had done. As the matter then stood I con- 
 cluded to keep the secret. The king knew not that the 
 child he fondled was of another blood ; and I would not 
 break the spell. 
 
 " Hold !" commanded Dagobert, as Bertrand rushed 
 forward. "Let me finish the story. Listen a few 
 moments longer, sire. I will soon conclude. 
 
 " A little more than a year subsequent to the events 
 I have related, your brother Charles, Duke of Nantes, 
 was slain in the battle of Quimper. His wife, the fair 
 Mary of Anjou, was then residing in Vannes, and had 
 just given birth to a son. The news of her husband's 
 death, coming at a time when she was already weak and 
 prostrate, gave her a mortal blow ; and when she knew 
 that she was dying, she became possessed with the idea 
 that her child— her infant boy— would be in constant 
 danger if she left him with those who had the legal 
 right to the guardianship. She had seen so much of 
 the strife and turmoil of the court, that she dreaded to 
 leave the little one to grow up under its influence. And 
 another thing influenced her much. She knew that the 
 growing child at the royal palace, whom people called 
 
240 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 Prince, was not of the royal blood ; and she knew that 
 her own child, as the heir of Duke Qharles, stood next 
 in line to the throne, if Theobald died childless. All 
 this frightened her, and she wished that her child might 
 grow up in some quiet, safe retreat, and be educated for 
 the Church. She sent for me, and confided to me her 
 plans. I reflected upon them, and did not oppose them. 
 I believed that the child would be better o£E in the Church 
 than in the court ; and I promised to assist her. Mar- 
 guerite, her faithful and loving servant, was to be a 
 mother to the child, and Francisco was selected to act 
 as tutor and guardian. Francisco had been one of the 
 bravest and most faithful followers of Charles ; and he 
 it was who had come home with intelligence of his mas- 
 ter's death. Mary of Anjou died, and Francisco and 
 Marguerite went away with the child. 
 
 "Sire, I have but little more to add. The son of ' 
 Charles and Mary was not born for the Church. No 
 power of argument or persuasion could bend his mind 
 in that direction. His hand itched for the sword and 
 spear, and his kind tutor finally gave him instruction in 
 the use of arms. How he has improved under that 
 instruction you must judge for yourself. I have only*- 
 to add, that this noble youth, whom we have called 
 Conrad du Nord, is your own nephew, the only child of 
 Charles of Nantes ! Look- into his face, sire, and tell i 
 me what you read there. Ask Casimir and Sir Philip *' 
 what they read when first they saw him ?" ^ ': 
 
 For a moment all was still, and then the voice of Ber-/ 
 trand broke the spell. 
 
 "Fools! idiots!" he cried, "do you believe this foul 
 tissue of priestly lies ? Thus shall my sword sunder the 
 false fabric the hoary dotard would build at my 
 expense I" 
 
 He had snatched his sword from its scabbard ; and, as 
 
Coficluszon. 24 1 
 
 if spoke, he sprang towards Conrad, intending to run 
 him through ; but an eye had been upon him from the 
 first, watching his every movement. Francisco drew 
 his own sword, and stepped before him. 
 
 " Back, Bertrand !" 
 
 " Out, greybeard ! I want not yQur blood yet !" 
 
 Bertrand aimed a furious blow as the words dropped 
 from his lips, and Francisco had but one way to avoid 
 it. He caught the coming blade upon his guard, and 
 would have rested with bearing the point aside ; but he 
 was not permitted so to do. He was before a madman, 
 and his own life was trembling in the balance. The 
 fire flashed in his eye, and the old vigor steeled his arm. 
 Others would have interfered, but there was no time. 
 Blind and furious, and with horrid imprecations upon 
 his lips, the false prince rushed on to his death, for, at 
 the second charge, the blade of the stern old soldier 
 pierced his bosom, and he staggered back, and fell upon 
 the pavement. 
 
 " Pardon ! pardon !" cried Francisco, throwing down 
 the dripping sword, and sinking upon his knees before 
 the king. " I could not help it." 
 
 " Up, up, Fraucisco," shouted Theobald, starting from 
 . his chair, and seizing the old soldier by the hand. 
 " You have done the State a merciful service ! Wait 
 here, all of you." 
 
 Thus speaking the king turned and left the apart- 
 ment ; and when he came back he brought with him his 
 dead dog, which he laid upon the dais before his chair. 
 
 " Behold," he said, shuddering as he spoke, " the 
 dumb companion of my cheerless solitude. This poor 
 : animal was poisoned. He died from eating bread which 
 was prepared for the king ! Do you ask me who pre- 
 pared the fatal food ? Francisco has just saved the 
 State the need of the prisoner's execution," 
 
242 The Fortunes of Conrad. 
 
 A startling curse broke upon the air ; and then a cry 
 for mercy. 
 
 Dagobert kneeled by the side of the fallen man ; but 
 the prayer which dropped from his lips wa& for a soul 
 departed ! 
 
 Up", up, from the darkness of despair to a brighter 
 day ! 
 
 Rosaline heard a step by her side, and a well-remem- 
 bered voice whispered her name. 
 
 " Conrad !" 
 
 " Yes, love." 
 
 She saw her father standing near by, and her eager, 
 anxious look he well understood. 
 
 " All is well, my child," he said. 
 
 And shortly afterwards he told to his daughter the 
 wonderful revelation which had been made. 
 
 " And now," said our hero, while a hopeful flush 
 suffused his cheeks, and an expectant light beamed in 
 his eyes, "you must allow me, my lord, to repeat the 
 question which once before I asked. Shall the Lady ,;; 
 Rosaline speak my fate ?" 
 
 "As you will, Conrad. If you choose to trust her, 
 you may rest upon her decision." 
 
 Rosaline of Rennes could not throw away the rich 
 treasure of that noble, manly heart ; and when Conrad 
 took her hand, and bade her speak in answer to his prayer, 
 she pillowed her head upon his bosom, and whispered- 
 for his hearing the sweetest words that had ever thrilled 
 upon his senses. 
 
 Such marvelous things as had transpired could not be 
 kept from the people ; and when they knew that Ber- 
 trand was dead, and that the youthful hero of the Nord , 
 was heir to the throne, their joy knew no bounds. 
 
Conclusiott. 243 
 
 ; But there was no need of haste in furnishing a new 
 occupant for the throne. With the death of Bertrand 
 was removed a fearful incubus from the life of Theo- 
 bald ; and he arose once more to strength alnd pride, 
 and reigned in peace for many years. But finally the 
 measure of his years was full, and the sceptre fell from 
 his hand. 
 
 Then it was that Conrad, in the full vigor of well- , 
 trained manhood, stepped upon the topmost round in 
 the ladder of his fortunes ; and blessed by the devoted 
 love of his gentle Rosaline, he won the confidence and 
 affectibtis of his people, and honored the crown which 
 fate had placed upon his head. 
 
 THE END 
 
AN AMERICAN NOVEL. 
 
 Parted By Fate; 
 
 OR, 
 
 The Mystery of Black-Tor lighthouse. 
 
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Ottilie Aster's 
 
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A NEW NOVEL 
 
 By the Popular Author, Mrs. Amelia E. Barr. 
 
 THE BEADS OF TASMER. 
 
 BY 
 
 Mrs. Amelia E. Barr. 
 
 12mo., 396 pages. Handsomely Bound In BngUsh Cloth. Beautl- 
 ftdly lUnstrated by W. B. Davis. TTnlfbim with "A Hatter 
 of Millions" and "The Forsaken Inn," \)y Anna Katharine 
 Green. Price, $1.26. 
 
 "The Beads of Tasmer," by Mrs. Amelia E. Barr, is a power- 
 ful and interesting story of Scotch life. The singular and strenu- 
 ous ambition which a combination of ancient pride and modern 
 greed inspires; the loveliness of the Scotch maidens, both High- 
 landers and Lowlanders ; the deep religious nature of the people; 
 the intense manifestation of these characteristic traits by Scotch 
 lovers of high and low degree ; the picturesque life of the country, 
 involving the strangest vicissitudes of fortune and the exhibition 
 of the most loving and loyal devotion, constitute a theme which 
 is of the highest intrinsic interest, and which is developed by the 
 accomplished authoress with consummate art and irresistible 
 power. " The Beads of Tasmer " is certainly one of Mrs. Barr's 
 very best works, and we shall be much mistaken if it does not take 
 high rank among the most successful novels of the century. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid on 
 receipt of $1.25 by the publishers, 
 
 ROBERT BONNER'S SONS, 
 Corner William and Spruce Sts., New York. 
 
Edda'S B 
 
 DDA'S DIRTHRIGHT. 
 
 By MRS. HARRIET LEWIS. 
 
 WiUt Seven IUnstzatica»> 
 
 Paper Covar, BO C«nta. Bouad Volume, $1.00b 
 
 "Edda's Birthright " is an exceUent noveL Mts. Lewis has 
 the faculty of making a story thoroughly interesting. There is, 
 in " Edda's Birthright," a charming girl, who engages sym- 
 pathy by her spirited behavior in depressing circumstances, and 
 wins the heart of the reader by her .truly womanly character. 
 The scene of the story is the great city of London, and the 
 heroine has many strange incidents and episodes in her life. 
 It is her splendid courage which makes her great charm, and 
 which finally wins. Every one who reads this book will be well 
 repaid. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt oi 
 price, by 
 
 ROBERT BONNER'S SONS, Publishers, 
 
 Corner William and Spruce Streets, New York. 
 
A NATIONAL BOOK. 
 
 The New South, 
 
 By HENRY W. GRADY. 
 
 with a Choraoter Sketch of 
 
 HENRY W. aRAI>Y, 
 
 By OLIVER DYEB, 
 AiUhor of " Great Senatora." 
 
 lemOb Booxid in Cloth. XTniform With "Great Senatus." With 
 Portrait. Price, $1.00. 
 
 " The New South " is a work of national importance. It is an 
 eloquent presentation of the changed condition of the South, the 
 facts of her present growth and prosperity, and the resources which 
 insure her magnificent destiny. Mr. Grady was an ardent pa- 
 triot His imagination was aflame with bright visions of the fu- 
 ture of his beloved country. He had a mind which was equal to 
 . his great heart, and he undertook the splendid task of educating 
 and enlightening his countrymen^ and exhibiting the inexhaustible 
 riches of her fertile soil, her beds of coal and iron, her great staple, 
 the cotton of the world's commerce, and her majestic water 
 courses which furnish the power and assurance of empire. His 
 book is his monument. 
 
 Mr. Dyer's character sketch of Henry W. Grady is an admir- 
 able account of the great orator and journalist. It will be read 
 with enthusiastic approval by every friend and admirer of Mr. 
 Grady in the North as well as in the South. The author of 
 " Great Senators " has grasped the character and presented the 
 spiritual side of his subject with a power and truth which indicate 
 I great writer. 
 
 RETAIL PRICE OF "THE NEW SOUTH," $i.oo. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of 
 price, by 
 
 ROBERT BONNER'S SONS, Publishers, 
 CORNEK William and Spruce Stkeets, New York. 
 
BERYL'S HUSBAND. 
 
 BY 
 
 Mrs. Harriet Lewis. 
 
 Akthor of "Lady Kildare," "Sundered Hearts,^' "Her 
 Double Life," etc. 
 
 WITH SVMEXOVa FVlSr-FABS ILLVSTSATIOITB BT ft A.. TSAVES. 
 
 Paper Cover, 60 cents. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. 
 
 A very charming story. It opens on the shores of Lake Leman, 
 in the romantic city of Geneva, under the shadow of Mont Blanc. 
 A young English girl, who has been educated at a boarding- 
 school at Vevay, is suddenly left without natural guardians and 
 means of support. Her beauty and interesting character attract 
 a young English traveller, who induces her to run away with him 
 and marry him. This is the beginning of a romantic novel 6f 
 extraordinary vicissitudes and adventures. To give an analysis 
 of the plot and situations would mar the interest of the reader. 
 It is sufficient to say that it is equal to the best of Mrs. Lewis's 
 novels, not excepting "Her Double Life" and "Lady Kildare." 
 
 For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
 on receipt of price, by the publishers, 
 
 ROBERT BONNER'S SONS, 
 COR. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 
 
COUSIN PONS. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 
 
 HONORE DE BALZAC* 
 
 12ino. 439 Pages. "With Twelve Beautiful and Oharaoteiistio 
 Illustrations by WMtney. Handsomely Bound in Cloth, Price, 
 $1.00. Paper Cover, 60 Cents.. 
 
 Cousin Pons is one of the most interesting characters in the 
 whole range of Balzac's wonderful creations. Balzac penetrated 
 human nature to its depth. There is scarcely a type which 
 evaded his keen eye. His characters are types of the living, 
 human world swarming at his feet. His creations are as real as 
 noble peaks standing out against an evening sky. In every one 
 of Balzac's novels there is a great human' lesson. There is not a 
 volume you can open which does not set forth some deep human 
 truth by means of characterizations so vivid that they seem to 
 breathe. So it is with "Cousin Pons." After reading it we 
 think of him not as a character in a novel, but as a personage — a 
 sweet and true soul — a simple enthusiast for art and beauty at 
 the mercy of selfish and vulgar harpies. 
 
A CHEAP EDITION 
 
 In Handsome Paper Cover. Price, 60 Cento. 
 
 The Forsaken Inn. 
 
 By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. 
 
 ILLVSTSATED BT VIOTOB PEBABD. 
 
 Anna Katharine Green's novel, " The Forsaken Inn," is ad- 
 mitted to be her best work. The authoress of " The Leaven- 
 worth Case " has always been considered extraordinarily clever 
 in the construction of mystifying and exciting plots, but in this 
 book she has not only eclipsed even herself in her specialty, but 
 has combined with her story-telling gift a fascinating mixture of 
 poetical qualities which makes " The Forsaken Inn" a work of 
 such interest that it will not be laid down by an imaginative 
 reader until he has reached the last line of the last chapter. The 
 scene of the story is the Hudson, between Albany and Pdugh- 
 keepsie, and the time is the close of the eighteenth century. In 
 writing her previous books, the authoress carefully planned her 
 work before putting pen to paper, but this story was written in a 
 white heat, and under the spur of a moment of inspiration. 
 
 " The Forsaken Inn " would have a large circulation even if 
 the author was less well known and popular than Anna Katharine 
 Green. With the author's reputation and its own inherent excel- 
 lence, we confidently predict that it will prove the novel of the 
 season. 
 
 The illustrations of " The Forsaken Inn " are by Victor Perard. 
 They are twenty-one in number, and are a beautiful embellish- 
 ment of the book. 
 
THE LEDGER LIBRARY. 
 
 •1.— HER DOUBIiE I^IFE. By Mrs. Har- 
 riet Lewis. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
 Bound Volume, :$1.00. 
 
 ■"a.— UNKNOWN. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. 
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 S.-GITNMAKER OP lUOSCOW. By 
 
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 4.— MAUD MORTON. By Major Alfred 
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 5.— THE HIDDEN HAND. By Mis. E. 
 
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 6.— SUNDERED HEART§. By Mrs. Har- 
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 7.— THEiSTONE- CUTTER OF I.ISBON. 
 
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 10.— NEAREST AND DEAREST. By Mrs. 
 
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 83.— OqJTILEE ASTER'S SILENCE. 
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 26.— UNDER OATH.— An Adirondack 
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 27.— COUSIN PONS." From the French of 
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 30.— REUNITED, iy A Popular Southern 
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 31.— MRS. HAROLD STAGG. By Robert 
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 32.— THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. Trans- 
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 33.— THE NORTHERN LIGHT. Trans- 
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 34.— BERYL'S HUSBAND. By Mrs. Haj^ 
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THE POPULAR SERIES. 
 
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