One day I came somewhat abruptly upon her. She was seated thoughtfully on an angle of the terrace or rampart which surrounded the tower. Her white cheek rested on her whiter hand, and her eyes were fixed vacantly upon the foot of the valley which was traversed by the road that led towards Zaberne, and through which meandered a tributary of the Ell, and from its banks a haze was rising in the sunshine through the leafless woods. Her expression was mournful, yet from her eyes there fell no tears. Perhaps she felt the humiliation of being a captive in her own duchy of Alsace. She was dressed in a robe of light-blue Amboisienne, having sleeves trimmed with the richest white Mechlin lace--a dress that admirably became her pale complexion and bright golden hair, which was shaded by a beaver, and single ostrich feather white as snow. The little Duke was seated near her, absorbed in fitting and preparing for sea a toy-ship which one of Ruthven's soldiers had made for him--a fatal gift as it afterwards proved; and, impelled by an irresistible desire to hear her speak, and once more meet her winning eye in kindness, I drew near. She bowed to me; and then I became deeply moved when perceiving that large tears began to roll in slow succession down her face. 'Madame,' said I, 'pardon me; but the sight of this silent grief fills me with compassion. Is there aught in which I can serve you?' 'Nothing; yet I thank you, M. Blane,' was the gentle reply. 'M. le Duc,' she added, to the little boy, who, on my approach, had crept close to her side with childish curiosity, 'leave me, I have somewhat of importance to say to this gentleman--to M. le Chatelain, whom you know.' 'Then will M. le Chatelain allow me to sail my new ship in the lake, and send a soldier to take care of me?' 'Certainly, if you wish it.' 'Oh! thank you, M. le Chatelain.' Anxious to be rid of him, I had consented, and he withdrew to float his mimic argosie in the mountain lake that rippled against the rampart below us. 'Hark you, M. le Duc,' said I, just as he lifted his little ship and was running away, 'take care of yourself.' 'Why, monsieur?' 'For many reasons; you love your Duchess, do you not?' 'Oh! yes, monsieur; are not her eyes so soft and gentle?' 'Alas, yes!' 'Why _alas_?' said the child with surprise, 'I assure you, M. le Gouverneur, she gives me twice as many sugarplums as ever my old nurse at Toul did, especially when she begs me not to tell any one that she has been weeping, for she weeps very often.' 'And this is your husband, Marie Louise?' said I, as the boy left us. 'Alas! poor child. He is very loveable, and reminds me much of what my foster-brother, René, and Vaudemont, were at his age; for this I love him.' 'Unhappy girl!' 'I am indeed a most unhappy girl; yet less so than if fate had united me to Pappenheim.' 'But this boy will be a man in time to come.' 'Ere that comes to pass I shall be--' 'Where?' 'In my grave, beside my mother.'