those----"

"bertrand, bertrand!" cried the lady in the same mutterings far-

away voice, "the blessed hour passes. use it, bertrand, while

you may."

"i will, my sweet. tell me, then, what fortune comes upon me?"

"danger, bertrand--deadly, pressing danger--which creeps upon you

and you know it not."

the french soldier burst into a thunderous laugh, and his green

eyes twinkled with amusement. "at what time during these twenty

years would not that have been a true word?" he cried. "danger

is in the air that i breathe. but is this so very close,

tiphaine?"

"here--now--close upon you!" the words came out in broken,

strenuous speech, while the lady's fair face was writhed and

drawn like that of one who looks upon a horror which strikes, the

words from her lips. du guesclin gazed round the tapestried

room, at the screens, the tables, the abace, the credence, the

buffet with its silver salver, and the half-circle of friendly,

wondering faces. there was an utter stillness, save for the

sharp breathing of the lady tiphaine and for the gentle soughing

of the wind outside, which wafted to their ears the distant call

upon a swine-herd's horn.

"the danger may bide," said he, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"and now, tiphaine, tell us what will come of this war in spain."

"i can see little," she answered, straining her eyes and

puckering her brow, as one who would fain clear her sight.

"there are mountains, and dry plains, and flash of arms and

shouting of battle-cries, yet it is whispered to me that by

failure you will succeed."

"ha! sir nigel, how like you that?" quoth bertrand, shaking his

head. "it is like mead and vinegar, half sweet, half sour. and

is there no question which you would ask my lady?"

"certes there is. i would fain know, fair lady, how all things

are at twynham castle, and above all how my sweet lady employs

herself."

"to answer this i would fain lay hand upon one whose thoughts

turn strongly to this castle which you have named. nay, my lord

loring, it is whispered to me that there is another here who hath

thought more deeply of it than you."

"thought more of mine own home?" cried sir nigel. "lady, i fear

that in this matter at least you are mistaken."

"not so, sir nigel. come hither, young man, young english squire

with the gray eyes! now give me your hand, and place it here

across my brow, that i may see that which you have seen. what is

this that rises before me? mist, mist, rolling mist with a

square black tower above it. see it shreds out, it thins, it

rises, and there lies a castle in green plain, with the sea

beneath it, and a great church within a bow-shot. there are two

rivers which run through the meadows, and between them lie the

tents of the besiegers."

"the besiegers!" cried alleyne, ford, and sir nigel, all three in

a breath.

"yes, truly, and they press hard upon the castle, for they are an

exceeding multitude and full of courage. see how they storm and

rage against the gate, while some rear ladders, and others, line

after line, sweep the walls with their arrows. they are many

leaders who shout and beckon, and one, a tall man with a golden

beard, who stands before the gate stamping his foot and hallooing

them on, as a pricker doth the hounds. but those in the castle

fight bravely. there is a woman, two women, who stand upon the

walls, and give heart to the men-at-arms. they shower down

arrows, darts and great stones. ah i they have struck down the

tall leader, and the others give back. the mist thickens and i

can see no more."

"by saint paul!" said sir nigel, "i do not think that there can

be any such doings at christchurch, and i am very easy of the

fortalice so long as my sweet wife hangs the key of the outer

bailey at the head of her bed. yet i will not deny that you have

pictured the castle as well as i could have done myself, and i am

full of wonderment at all that i have heard and seen."

"i would, lady tiphaine," cried the lady rochefort, "that you

would use your power to tell me what hath befallen my golden

bracelet which i wore when hawking upon the second sunday of

advent, and have never set eyes upon since."

"nay, lady," said du guesclin, "it does not befit so great and

wondrous a power to pry and search and play the varlet even to

the beautiful chatelaine of villefranche. ask a worthy question,

and, with the blessing of god, you shall have a worthy answer."

"then i would fain ask," cried one of the french squires, "as to

which may hope to conquer in these wars betwixt the english and

ourselves."

"both will conquer and each will hold its own," answered the lady

tiphaine.

"then we shall still hold gascony and guienne?" cried sir nigel.

the lady shook her head. "french land, french blood, french

speech," she answered. "they ar