‘Is she there whom they call the Lady of Hope?’ asked one of the soldiers, a mercenary, less interested than most of his comrades, as he had only a fortnight since transferred his services from Guise to Quinet

‘Our Lady of Sadness just now,’ replied the messenger; ’her old father is at the point of death.  However, she is there, and at our last siege twenty wine-skins would not so well have kept up men’s hearts.’

’And the little one, the white fairy, is she there too?  They say ’tis a spirit, a changeling that could not brook the inside of a church, but flew out of the Moustier at Montauban like a white swan, in the middle of a sermon.’

’I only know I’ve seen her sleep like a dormouse through prayers, sermon, and all at Pont de Dronne. Follette is she be, she belongs to the white elves of the moonlight.’

’Well, they say bullets won’t touch her, and no place can be taken where she is,’ replied the trooper.  ’Nay, that Italian pedlar rogue, the same that the Duke has since hung, has sold to long Gilles and snub-nosed Pierre silver bullets, wherewith they have sworn to shoot the one or the other next time they had a chance.’

These words were spoken at not great distance from Berenger, but passed by him as mere men-at-arms’ gossip, in his eagerness to expedite the start of his party; and in less than an hour they were en route for Pont de Dronne; but hasten as he would, it was not till near noon the next day that he came in sight of a valley, through which wound a river, crossed by a high-backed bridge, with a tall pointed arch in the middle, and a very small one on either side.  An old building of red stone, looking like what it was—­a monastery converted into a fortress—­stood on the nearer, or northern bank, and on the belfry tower waved a flag with the arms of Quinet.  Higher up the valley, there was an ominous hum, and clouds of smoke and dust; and the gen d’armes, who knew the country, rejoiced that they were come just in time, and exchanged anxious questions whether the enemy were not fording the river above them, so as to attack not only the fortress on this northern side, but the bridge tower on the southern bank of the river.

Spurring down the hill, the party were admitted, at the well-guarded gateway, into a large thickly-walled yard, where the soldiers and horses remained, and Berenger and Philip, passing through a small arched doorway into the body of the old monastery, were conducted to a great wainscoted hall, where a pulpit projecting from the wall, and some defaced emblematic ornaments, showed that this had once been the refectory, though guard-room appliances now occupied it.  The man who had shown them in left them, saying he would acquaint Captain Falconnet with their arrival, and just then a sound of singing drew both brothers to the window.  It looked out on what had once been the quadrangle, bounded on three sides by the church, the refectory,