WWhen, an hour or two later, an invitation arrived—courteously worded but significantly backed by an escort of half-a-dozen tall archers—for both Jeanne and the Mayor to attend at the ChÂteau without delay, Jeanne for her part received it with neither surprise nor reluctance. She had felt it especially hard that the only two interviews fate had granted her with the one man who had made some impression on her heart should be hampered, the one by considerations of propriety, the other by the conflicting claims of her profession An invitation arrived, backed by an escort of half-a-dozen tall archers. “I always thought you’d put your foot in it some day, Mayor,” she said. “You are so hopelessly wanting in system and method. Really, under the present happy-go-lucky police arrangements, I never know whom I may not be called upon to execute. Between you and my cousin Enguerrand, life is hardly safe in this town. And the worst of it is, that we “What do you think they’ll do to me, Jeanne?” whimpered the Mayor, perspiring freely. “Can’t say, I’m sure,” pursued the candid Jeanne. “Of course, if it’s anything in the rack line of business, I shall have to superintend the arrangements, and then you can feel sure you’re in capable hands. But probably they’ll only fine you pretty smartly, give you a month or two in the dungeons, and dismiss you from your post; and you will hardly grudge any slight personal inconvenience resulting from an arrangement so much to the advantage of the town.” This was hardly reassuring, but the Mayor’s official reprimand of the previous day still rankled in this unforgiving young person’s mind. “Your punctuality puts me to shame, fair mistress,” he said, “considering how unwarrantably I kept you waiting this morning, and how I tested your patience by my ignorance and awkwardness.” He had changed his dress, and the lace round his neck was even richer than before. “Indeed, my lord,” she replied modestly, “I was only too anxious to hear from your own lips that you bore me no ill-will for the part forced on me by circumstances in our recent interview. Your lordship has sufficient critical good sense, I feel sure, to distinguish between the woman and the official.” “True, Jeanne,” he replied, drawing nearer; “and while I shrink from expressing, in their fulness, all the feelings that the woman inspires in me, I have no hesitation—for I know it will give you pleasure—in acquainting you with the entire artistic satisfaction with which I watched you at your task!” “Yes, I wish it could have been arranged somehow,” said the Seigneur, reflectively; “but perhaps it’s better as it is. I am content to let the artist remain for the present on trust, if I may only take over, fully paid up, the woman I adore!” Jeanne felt strangely weak. The official seemed oozing out at her fingers and toes, while the woman’s heart beat even more distressingly. “I have one little question to ask,” he murmured (his arm was about her now). Jeanne felt like water in his strong embrace; but she nerved herself to answer, faintly but firmly, “Yes!” “Then so do I,” he replied, as his lips met hers. · · · · · · · Executions continued to occur in St. Radegonde; the Radegundians being conservative and very human. But much of the innocent enjoyment that formerly attended them departed after the fair ChÂtelaine had ceased to officiate. Enguerrand, on succeeding to the post, wedded Clairette, she being (he was heard to say) a more suitable match in mind and temper than others of whom he would name no names. Rumour had it, that he found his match and something over; while as for temper—and mind (which THE END |