Translated By Katharine Prescott Wormeley
n her eyes flow down her cheeks. "The count will kill me,--to-night, perhaps! But go to the king; tell him the tortures that his daughter has endured these five years. He loved me well when I was little; he called me 'Marie-full-of-grace,' because I was ugly. Ah! if he knew the man to whom he gave me, his anger would be terrible. I have not dared complain, out of pity for the count. Besides, how could I reach the king? My confessor himself is a spy of Saint-Vallier. That is why I have consented to this guilty meeting, to obtain a defender,--some one to tell the truth to the king. Can I rely on-- Oh!" she cried, turning pale and interrupting herself, "here comes the page!"
The poor countess put her hands before her face as if to veil it.
"Fear nothing," said the young seigneur, "he is won! You can safely trust him; he belongs to me. When the count contrives to return for you he will warn us of his coming. In the confessional," he added, in a low voice, "is a priest, a friend of mine, who will tell him th