"They are here," continued the brigand, "and the good lord is in his hold. Now, lady, you have doubtless promised things which you may find it difficult to perform. You have promised to see this noble cavalier, and give him--if needs must be, by stealth--the happiness of your presence; but I know better than you do how things will befall you. You will be watched; you will never be suffered to leave that castle's gates without a train, which will cut you off from speaking with any one. The gardens of the castle, however, will doubtless be free, for the walls are high, the gates securely locked, and the way up to them watched. Nevertheless, there is the small postern in the corner of the lowest terrace, hid by a tall yew-tree: lay your hand upon the handle of the lock at any time of the day you please. If it open not at the first trial, wait a moment, and try it again. You shall never try it three times without finding that door give way to your hand." "But he tells me," said the lady, speaking more directly to what was passing in the brigand's thoughts than to what he actually expressed, "but he tells me that he is actually on his way to visit my mother's husband, charged with messages of import to him from the noble Marquis of Brissac, and that to-morrow morning he will be there, openly demanding admittance." "See him in the evening also, lady, whatever befall," replied the other. "There are more dangers round you than you wot of. But I will speak to him farther as we return. Now you had better go on." A few minutes more brought them nearly to the gates of the castle. The brigand had remained behind to wait the coming up of his people. Bernard de Rohan turned to see if they were approaching; but he could now perceive no one upon the road but a single figure coming slowly on at some distance, and leading a horse by the bridle. It was a moment not to be lost. Once more he threw his arms round the lady beside him, and she bent her head till their lips met. There were no farther words between them but a few unconnected names of tenderness, and in a minute or two after they were joined by the wounded servant, who had remained behind with the lady and those who accompanied her when the Lord of Masseran and the rest were sent on. "Ah! my lord," he said, looking wistfully in the face of the young cavalier, "you have forgotten me, but I have not forgotten you; and if it had not been for my love and duty to my young mistress, I would have been with you in Italy long ago, especially when the countess sold herself to her stranger husband."