The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1898-09-25

moved feebly and her eyelids futtered
but there was a dark wet stain upon the
broideries of her dress, where the mantle
fell back, and it grew larger as we
gazed.
water" said FIR Bepois. I went to
where, just inside the pestern-gate played
a little fountain with a cup and a statue
of our lady. | wrenched the cup free,
filled it, and began to mutter prayers
and curses. all mingled together i'll my
falling tears. The gate was open and
through it 1 saw a figure scudding down
the hill like a scared rabbit. 1t was the
Sieur d'Audilly. So we had married her
to a craven and killed her into the bar
gain: the one deed balanced the other.
The tears dried on my hot face as l hur-
ried back with the trimming cup.
The alarm of Logs had awakened no
one and the court was as still as death
as we bathed her white face and forced
little of the water between her lips.
Down in the valley a horse neighed as
it parted company with its fellows. In
a moment she opened her eyes ana said
clearly, seeming to recall everything at
once: 81 am dying. Where is hep
FIR Benoit's fat face was working, and
the tears chased each other down his
round cheeks. He looked at me in an
agony.
1t was no time to count words. |
took her hand and kissed it. He is
dead, madame"
She never doubted me. A bright smile
shone on her little face, and her slender
limbs relaxed. / lifted her in my arms,
and FIR Benoit began the short absolution
through his tears. AS he lifted his hand
she raised her head on my arm, and
looked straight up between us, and be-
yOnd. She closed her eyes again, and we
thought her dead but she R,ened them
once more and smiled upon us, just as
she had smiled over her roses that very
day.
Il hope you have not lost the red
king" said she, quite in her old voice.
You are both so careless-but lost or
found, he is still the red king-was it
not a brave tOken?' Perhaps she wan
dered, for all at once, before we knew
her blue eyes grew misty, her body be-
came heavy in my arms, and 1t was
over.
So died the Demoiselle Alys, who was
the brightest, merriest lady, and whom
| held on my knee before she was
so long as my bauble.
Err BenOit rose, his wet face shining in
the moonlight, and motioned me to follow
him-we were both past speecti-and |
carried her back through the great door,
along the passages of the great silent
house, gROping our way, for we had no
light. and sometimes stumbling in the
darkness. Once l felt something touch
me, and heard a dogs shifting at my
burden: the creature seemed to under
stand, and whined, very softly, and fol-
lowed us, pattering along behind us to
the very chapel door, where, as no one
had the heart to thrust him back, he
came in, whining as we laid the Demoi-
selle Alys upon the step before the altar
rail, where she had knelt as bride not
half an hour before.
We fell on our knees, Fr Benoit and
I. and prayed while the moonlight crept
round the pillars, and grew FAINT in the
western windows, and the eastern win
dow frightened and flushed, and the
birds began to twitter in the caves. l,
the fool. and Err Benoit. and the dog
we'll there were three hearts of us, unlike
as all three were, while the Sieur
d'Audilly was saving himself at the rate
Of five leagues an hour
So was mOurned the Demoiselle Alys.
who, as | said was the merriest lady,
and even when she was the length of
my bauble her eyes were as blue as
panses-only some pansies are purple,
but her eyes were like the kind that are
blue.