On The Castle Hill

She began to tremble, and stood looking up the green slope to the broken
grey wall which crowned its summit.

"What is it?" she whispered, commanding herself with an effort. "What is
it? If it have aught to do with M. Tignonville--"

"It has not!"

In her surprise--for although she had put the question she had felt no
doubt of the answer--she started and turned to him.

"It has not?" she exclaimed almost incredulously.

"No."

"Then what is it, Monsieur?" she replied, a little haughtily. "What can
there be that should move me so?"

"Life or death, Madame," he answered solemnly. "Nay, more; for since
Providence has given me this chance of speaking to you, a thing of which
I despaired, I know that the burden is laid on us, and that it is guilt
or it is innocence, according as we refuse the burden or bear it."

"What is it, then?" she cried impatiently. "What is it?"

"I tried to speak to you this morning."

"Was it you, then, whom Madame St. Lo saw stalking me before dinner?

"It was."

She clasped her hands and heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God,
Monsieur!" she replied. "You have lifted a weight from me. I fear
nothing in comparison of that. Nothing!"

"Alas!" he answered sombrely, "there is much to fear, for others if not
for ourselves! Do you know what that is which M. de Tavannes bears
always in his belt? What it is he carries with such care? What it was
he handed to you to keep while he bathed to-day?"