"Poor Hervé said that he had already, more than once, spoilt his wife's calculations and failed to support her views. She and Georges, whatever private feeling might be, thought it impossible to put off this ball because of the misfortune that happened to Angelot. They would be understood to show sympathy with the Chouans. Then he abused me well, poor Hervé," said Monsieur Joseph, amiably. "He said, as Urbain did, that I had ruined Angelot's life, and it was no one's fault but mine. 'Well, dear cousin,' I said to him, 'I will punish myself by not appearing at this fine ball of yours. Not that my dancing days are over, but for me, Ange's absence would spoil all.' 'You love that fellow!' says Hervé, looking at me. 'Love him!' says I. 'I would cut off my right hand to serve him, and that is a good deal for a sportsman.' Hervé laughed as I said it. I do not dislike that poor Hervé, though his wife rules him. Listen to me, you two. I believe if Ange had been reasonable and honest, Hervé might have given him his daughter." "Heaven forbid!" cried Anne. "But if you love Ange, do not blame him. He was young, he was mad, the girl was beautiful--and, after all, Joseph, you had something to do with putting that into his head. Ah, we are all to blame! We have all been cruel, blind, selfish. You and I thought of the King, Urbain thought of his cousins, they thought of themselves. We left my boy to find his own way in a time like this, and your Chouan friends were as dangerous for him as Hélène de Sainfoy. Ah! and you excuse yourself with a laugh from dancing on his grave!" She wrung her hands, threw herself back in her chair with a passionate sigh. "Madame," said the Curé, suddenly;--his dim but watchful eyes had been fixed on Joseph; "Madame, Monsieur Joseph could tell you, if he would, what has become of Angelot. He is not dead; I doubt if he is even in prison. Ah, monsieur, you do not dissimulate well!" as Joseph made him an eager sign to be silent. But it was too late, for Anne was holding his two hands, and in the light of her eyes all his secret doings lay open. "Why did I come!" he said to himself, in the intervals of a very difficult explanation. "There is some magic in those walls of Lancilly, which attracts and ruins us all. If we live through this, thousand thunders, Hervé de Sainfoy may make his own excuses to our dear little Anne in future!" CHAPTER XXII THE LIGHTED WINDOWS OF LANCILLY There was no way out of it, without telling all. Fortunately Joseph knew that his secrets were safe with these two, whose hearts were absolutely Royalist, though circumstances held them bound to inactivity. Presently Anne rose and left the room. "Thank God! that is over," Joseph said, half to himself. "I must be going. Monsieur le Curé, I leave her to you. Do not let her be too anxious. D'Ombré is rough, but a good fellow; he will take care of our Angelot."