"He urged it upon me, sire," she answered, "after he knew that my heart was given and my hand was promised to another, that other being his own friend. He sought me, sire, he persecuted me, he used words that I will not repeat, nay, menaces, all with the countenance of my mother, who acted, I believe--nay, I know--under the commands of her new husband. I was in hopes of some relief when my Lord of Masseran here took us so suddenly to Savoy, but we were soon followed by the gentleman you have named. I was now told to think no more of Bernard de Rohan. I was informed that my hand was destined for the man whom, by this time, I detested, and that means would be found to make me obey. Vague and terrible fears came over me; but I obtained an opportunity of writing one letter to him I loved. Would that I had never done so! for that letter has killed him." "Methinks, sire, it would have been better," said the Lord of Masseran, in a sneering tone, "if the fair lady was so tyrannically used in my poor dwelling, to write to her brother in the capital." "I did," replied Isabel of Brienne, "often and most sorrowfully." "But did you ever ask him to come to you?" demanded the Lord of Masseran. "He says not." "Never," replied Isabel of Brienne. "On the contrary, I besought him not to come. I concealed half my grief, the daily anguish of witnessing my mother's sorrow, the taunts, the sneers, the bitterness, which, like the Egyptian pestilence, made our very food swarm with reptiles; I concealed much, much that I might have told, and still besought him not to come." "May I ask why, madam?" said the king, with evident surprise. "De Vieilleville, there is something under this. I must hear the whole," he added, seeing her hesitate. "Lady, it must be told." "It was, sire," said Isabel de Brienne, in a low but distinct voice, "it was that I feared, if brother and sister should be in the same house beyond the pale of your majesty's realm--in a place where few questions are asked, and secret acts do not easily transpire--I feared, I say, I feared much for my brother's safety." "I understand," said the king, "I understand. But there must be great objects for such doings." "Everything reverts, sire," said Vieilleville, addressing the king in a low voice, "everything reverts to the mother in case of the death of the son and daughter without children." "These, sire, however," said Isabel, "were but suspicions, and perhaps were unjust--" "Oh, most unjust, I do assure your majesty," said the Lord of Masseran, who had more than once shown a disposition to break in, but had been restrained by a gesture from the king. "Such base designs never entered my mind."