"Mademoiselle," he said, "what can I say to tell you of my gratitude? how prove my devotion for one who has at such risk sought to save me from my enemies? Truly, methinks, I may safely abide in such a shelter without fear of too bold intruders; the very presence of monsieur the good priest, my friend, seems to haunt such a fitting dwelling-place. Nay, I do not jest, though I thank the saints I have not the fears which prove so strong a safeguard against my foes, for who could fear, I again demand, with such an amulet as you have given me?" "Nay," she whispered fearfully, "speak not lightly, monsieur, for though I—I have little fear, seeing that the saints ever have the innocent, Father Ambrose saith, in their keeping, still, ’tis ill speaking thus at midnight of the spirits of the dead, be they good or ill, and, and," she continued, trying to speak more bravely, "I have yet to show you your lodging, monsieur." She stepped forward as she spoke, glancing back for him to follow, with a look in her blue eyes which might well have haunted those of martyr times, so brave yet so fearful it was. "See," she whispered, as she led the way towards the ruin, "Yvon and I discovered the secret in our childhood’s days, and none other know it, I ween, for Yvon, ever fearless of aught, would ofttimes make me play here with him against my will, and so it chanced one day that we lighted on a chamber beneath the ruined altar. ’Tis but a narrow, evil place, monsieur, but at least a safe one." "And the horse?" questioned d’Estrailles eagerly, for now for the first time hope seemed verily to be opening a way of escape before him. "Nay," sighed Gwennola, "’tis our chiefest difficulty; but there is beyond the chapel yonder a small shed, monsieur, a shed also ruined, it is true, as the chapel, but ’twill serve as shelter, and, should the poor beast be discovered, still you may well lie hid in safety and security." The underground chamber, perchance in bygone days the chapel crypt, was, as the girl had said, small and ill lodging, but a man in extremity needs not to lie softly, and to Henri d’Estrailles it was more welcome in his need than a palace chamber might have been. Yet the young man found it difficult with so full a heart to stammer forth his gratitude.