"Now, then, have I not kept faith with you?" said a voice in the chapel.

"Yes, in truth you have," replied a second voice; "but I fear we have been too late. The falling of that accursed horse has lost us the five minutes—the important five minutes on which all success in life so often depends."

"You should not bring fine-pampered Barbary steeds into these wild mountains, count," replied the other voice; "but a bold man is never too late. The lover is safe enough for a long time to come, and you can—"

"Hush! hush!" said the other, as if fearful that their conversation, though the tone in which they spoke was little louder than a whisper, should reach the ears of some one near.

"Oh! she has fainted," said the other. "She sank back upon my arm a minute or two ago. Here! Forli, bring me a lantern!"

A lantern was soon brought, and, one side being opened, the light was suffered to stream full upon the face of Isabel de Brienne. The beautiful eyes were closed; the long, dark lashes rested on the fair cheek; the lips themselves were pale; and there was no indication that the heavy, senseless sleep in which she lay was not the slumber of death itself, except a slight movement of the fingers, as if the cord that tied her wrists caused some corporeal pain, which was felt even through the swoon in which she lay. It was upon her face and form alone that the full light shone, but the feeble rays which found their way around dispelled in some degree, though but slightly, the profound darkness that before had filled the whole building. No one could be seen so as to be recognised; but in various parts of the chapel appeared groups of dark figures, all holding aloof from the spot where the unhappy girl lay, with her head resting upon the upper step of the altar, except two tall and powerful men, who stood close to her, and another, who knelt down, holding the lantern to her face.

"Were it not better to take her away at once?" said one of the voices.

"There is the ring upon her finger!" said the other, without answering the question. "Accursed be that brute for thus delaying us! I will shoot him with my own hand when I get back." He paused a moment, and then continued: "So, he thinks that there is no charm which can ever get that ring off again. But I will find one; and, if I mistake not, there is even now a mighty magician in the Louvre preparing the counterspell. No, no, my good lord, we will not change our plan. I must appear as the deliverer, not as the offender. The time is gone by when ladies fell in love with their ravishers; but where shall it be? Up towards La Chapelle?"

"No, no!" replied the other, "that will not do. You might say I was going to join the emperor. No, better in the valley just above Les Echelles. There, too, my good friend, we shall be free from those who stopped us in our last attempt. It will take us till daylight to get there, and that will be just the time."

"Hush! she is waking!" said the other. "Quick, close the lantern!" and, after a few words more, spoken in a still lower tone, there was a considerable movement in the chapel. Several persons came and went; and Isabel de Brienne, gradually waking again to a consciousness of her unhappy situation, heard the stern tones of the Marquis of Masseran, now speaking in a loud voice, and giving various orders to the people that surrounded him.

"Is the litter not come yet?" he said. "Go, some one, and hasten it: I will take care that no such plots as these are carried on again. Have you got the priest? I trust you have not let him escape."

"He is safe enough," replied one of the others; "he is safe enough, and up at the castle by this time. Here is the litter, my lord."

"Come, fair madam," said the Lord of Masseran, "if you cannot walk, we must have you borne forth. But surely a lady sufficiently active to deceive her own mother, and to find her way hither on such a night as this, may very well walk to the chapel door."

"My lord," said Isabel, faintly, "I did not deceive my mother. It was only one prisoner who concealed her plan of escape from another, compelled—I trust and believe unwillingly—to act the part of a spy and a jailer. I call every one to witness," she added, speaking as loud as her feeble state would permit, "that I protest against your removing me anywhere but to the court of the King of France, my native sovereign."

"Who said we were going to take you anywhere but to his court?" rejoined the Lord of Masseran. "Come, madam, come! Cease arguments and protests; I am your mother's husband, your guardian for the time, and that guardianship you shall not break through very easily." Thus saying, he raised her rudely by the arm, and, half leading, half dragging her, conveyed her to the door of the chapel, and placed her in a horse-litter which stood near. Some farther delay took place while the men around were mounting their horses and arranging the order of their march. When this was completed, however, the Lord of Masseran put himself at the head of his troop, and proceeded at a slow pace, taking a road that led away from the castle.

Isabel, unable to move, lay in the litter and wept; but she remarked that, from time to time, single horsemen passed from the rear to the front, and from the front to the rear, and that manifold were the orders and directions given to the different persons of whom the party was composed. No one, however, spoke a word to her; but it was some consolation to see, as day began to break upon their weary journey onward, that there was the form of another woman among the troopers on before. Isabel thought, too, that she had once heard, during the night, the voice of her maid speaking in a somewhat complaining tone; and the idea of having her society in the state of captivity she was doomed to suffer was no slight alleviation.

It was just at that moment, while the sky was still gray with night, but the rocks, and trees, and mountains round about growing every instant more clear and defined, that a good deal of bustle and agitation became evident in the party of the Marquis of Masseran. A minute or two afterward he halted on the edge of the hill, and was seen speaking eagerly with some of his followers. At the same time the sound of a trumpet was heard, and Isabel thought she could distinguish the galloping of horse. She then saw a number of the Lord of Masseran's followers, who were on before her, dismount, and, unslinging their firearms, fire a shot or two into the valley. A loud volley of musketry from some distant spot was heard immediately afterward, and the marquis, apparently in great haste and agitation, ordered the litter to be brought on with all speed, and driven forward in advance of the party. The discharges of musketry, however, both from his own attendants and from those who seemed to be pursuing him, grew more and more frequent every moment; the smoke drifted down the valley in long white wreaths, enveloping the litter, and making all the objects more indistinct than before; while the galloping of horse was now clearly heard, together with loud voices giving orders. Then came the clashing of swords, and two or three men on horseback were driven fiercely past the litter, contending with others hand to hand. After a short scene of tumult and confusion, the sound of the firing appeared to come from a greater distance. The two men on horseback who were guarding the litter suddenly stopped, gazed around them, and galloped away at full speed. The actual driver slipped down the rocks into the valley below, and seemed to hide himself among the bushes; while Isabel remained alone, with her hands tied, and unable to quit the vehicle in which she had been placed.

A number of voices talking aloud, however, soon met her ear, and a gay and gallant party, somewhat soiled with dust and smoke, rode up to the spot were she lay. The leader of the victorious body sprang from his horse at once; and, while one of his followers caught the reins of the horses in the litter, the Count de Meyrand approached Isabel's side, exclaiming, in a tone of much pity and commiseration, "I fear, indeed, Mademoiselle de Brienne, that you must have suffered terribly. Good God!" he continued, "the villain has actually tied her hands;" and on the spot, with his own dagger, he cut the cords, which had left a deep print on the small, delicate wrists that they had bound. At the same time, he added many a soothing word, but still with a tone of deference and respect, which made Isabel feel that deliverance by his hand was not, as she had at first been inclined to think, more painful than her former captivity. She spoke a few words of thanks for his assistance and attention; and, with an eagerness that waited not to be questioned, Adrian of Meyrand went on to tell her "that he had heard, late on the preceding night, that some violence had been shown to her, in consequence of an attempt she had made to escape from the castle of Masseran, and that her mother's husband was carrying her away far into Savoy.

"I have good reason to know," continued the count, "that this man has secret communications with the enemies of France, and I doubt not that his purpose was to remove you for ever from the neighbourhood of your friends and connexions, from your native country, and from the protection of the king. Although," he added, with a sigh, "I was not sure that my assistance would be acceptable, yet I could not resist my inclination to follow and offer you deliverance. I was afraid of offending you; but these bonds upon your hands, sweet lady, evidently show that you were carried away against your will, and, therefore, what I have done has not been in vain."

His words agreed so well with the suspicions which Isabel de Brienne had before entertained regarding the views and purposes of the Lord of Masseran, that they taught her to put more faith in the count than she might otherwise have been inclined to do. The respectful tone which he assumed, too, removed, as we have said, many anxieties from her mind, and she again expressed her thanks for the service he had rendered her, but still looked bewildered in his face, as if inquiring what was to be done next.

The Count de Meyrand skilfully read that look, and, knowing that her situation placed her entirely in his power for the time, he determined to leave her the utmost appearance of unrestrained liberty so long as she could use it to no effect. He said not a word then in regard to where her steps should be turned, but stood beside the litter with his cap in his hand, and the feather trailing on the ground, as if waiting for her commands.

Isabel was embarrassed: she could have wished to tell him all that had occurred; she could have wished to say, "I am Bernard de Rohan's wife. Protect me for the sake of your friend and companion." But there was a hesitation, a doubt, an apprehension: she had known and she had seen, with a woman's clear insight into all those things that appertain to love, how strong and dangerous was the passion which the Count de Meyrand had conceived for her; and, though timidity had certainly some share in making her hesitate to acknowledge at once her union with Bernard de Rohan, yet an apprehension of endangering him, of making his imprisonment more severe, of putting his very life in peril if she acknowledged her union with him to his rival, confirmed her resolution of taking time to think ere she so acted. What she was next to do, however, was the immediate question; and, after a long and embarrassing pause, she said, half as a question to herself and half to the count, "Where can I go to, and what can I do?"

That question was what Meyrand expected and what he desired. "If I might advise," he said, in an humble tone, "Mademoiselle de Brienne would at once proceed to the court of the King of France, and put herself under the protection of her own sovereign, who is the person best qualified to guide and guard her. She will there also have the counsel and assistance of her brother, and will consequently be restored to that situation of freedom, comfort, and, I trust, peace, of which I must think she was deprived by her mother's marriage with this unprincipled Savoyard."

"But there are many things," said Isabel, in a low tone, "but there are many things, Monsieur de Meyrand—" and, as she spoke, the thought came across her of leaving the man to whom she had so lately given her hand in danger, in grief, perhaps in misery, and of putting many hundreds of miles between them within a few hours after they had pledged themselves to each other to remain together for life.

The Count de Meyrand, however, cut her short. "At all events, dear lady," he said, "it is necessary, very necessary, for us to pass the French frontier immediately. It is at no great distance; and a few hours will place us in our native land. Depend upon it, this good Lord of Masseran will not lose his prize so easily. Every man I have in Savoy is with me here. He can call hundreds to his aid, and, I fear, might overwhelm me in spite of all resistance. If, indeed, you wish to remain in Savoy, I will do my best to protect you; but I fear much the consequences, and I would advise, nay, persuade you, to take the road to France at once. You can determine upon your future conduct afterward, when we are once across the frontier; for, though France holds this country by armed force, still it is not our own; and, while we keep the fortresses, we are obliged to leave the open country to its fate. Ha!" he continued, gazing along the road, down which a party of his attendants were now leading a horse, bearing the poor, quiet soubrette, who had followed her mistress through that eventful night. "Ha! here come some of my people, seemingly with a woman servant. If she be any one you can depend upon, it may be a great comfort for you to have her with you."

"She is my own maid," replied the lady, "and I think, my lord, as you do, that we had better, in the first instance, make our way into France direct, if the distance be not great to the frontier."

"It is but a few hours' ride," replied the count. "But we must lose no time lest the enemy be upon us."

Though Isabel was fatigued and exhausted with sorrow, agitation, and want of rest, she signified her readiness to proceed at once, and the horses in her litter were turned in the direction of the frontier. Her maid, too, weary with the long journey on horseback, took her place beside her mistress in the more easy conveyance; and the Count de Meyrand, riding close to the vehicle, continued to offer to Isabel de Brienne every kindly and soothing attention. Nor was his manner marked by any such signs of admiration or affection as could give her pain; but, at the same time, it must be confessed, she would have been much better satisfied to have been left to a communion with her own thoughts. The mere necessity of travelling any distance under the guidance and protection of a man whose love she had been forced to reject, and who had pressed it upon her in a way that she had felt to be insulting, was painful in the highest degree; and the prospect of having to proceed far in such circumstances was so grievous, that she resolved at all risks to avoid it. What plan she was to form for this purpose was a question which required much thought to answer; but the count took care that she should have no time either for calm consideration or for discussing her future prospects with the woman who accompanied her, and who was, in fact, the only one now with her whom she had known long and well.

Ere three hours were over, they passed the frontier into France; and Isabel could not help thinking it strange that, if the Lord of Masseran's purpose had been to throw himself into the hands either of the emperor or of Philip of Spain, he should thus have approached within a few leagues of the French territory. There were other circumstances also, in all that had passed, which puzzled her; but she had no means of accounting for any of these matters, and could not lull to sleep the suspicions which they occasioned.

At the first village which they came to, it was found necessary to pause for the purpose of refreshing the horses of the litter; and everything that could be procured for her comfort and convenience was ordered with prompt and careful attention by the Count of Meyrand. When he had seen that a chamber had been prepared for her in the little inn, where she could repose for an hour or two, and that refreshments of various kinds were in active preparation, he ordered his horse to be brought round again, much to her surprise, saying, "It will be better for me now to leave you, Mademoiselle de Brienne. You will be in security here till my return; but I must go and scour the country towards Chambery, to make sure that none of this man's parties have crossed the frontier, and are watching for you on your onward way."

Isabel was anxious to put the best interpretation on her companion's conduct, and it seemed to her that this might merely be a delicate excuse to leave her for the time. She was willing to imagine that such an explanation had taken place between the count and Bernard de Rohan as to deprive the former of all hope of obtaining her hand, and she fancied that Adrian de Meyrand's conduct in the present instance might be guided by a wish to show that his purposes were only those of friendship and honourable courtesy. She would not, however, banish the suspicions to which woman's instinctive insight into the passion of which she is the object gave rise, and, for fear of being mistaken, she would not say one word to prevent his going, although she felt that it was scarcely courteous of her not to do so, and though she thought that there was an expression of disappointment on his face at the cold indifference with which she heard the announcement.