The lamp which had been left with Bernard de Rohan burned but dimly, for it had been long untrimmed, so that at first the young cavalier did not recognise the person who entered. The next instant, however, his visiter spoke, and the deep but melodious voice instantly brought to the prisoner's recollection his wild companion, Corse de Leon. "Ah! Monsieur de Rohan," said the brigand, looking around him as he entered, "I have not forgotten you you see. Out upon that scoundrel! How dared he put you in such a place as this? He might have given you a befitting chamber, at all events." Bernard de Rohan grasped his hand; and, needing no words to assure him that the brigand came to set him free, he thanked him again and again, but mingled, however, his thanks with some marvellings to see him within the chateau of Masseran. The brigand smiled. "There is nothing wonderful in it, Monsieur de Rohan," he replied. "There is not a door in this castle that does not open to me as readily as to its lord. All these things are easily explained. Some of the poor people with whom I have to do think me half a magician, and it is not worth while to undeceive them, though I seek not for any such reputation. Truth is marvellous enough, without trying to make it more wonderful," he continued, in a musing tone; "and all that I do which seems strange may, nine times out of ten, be explained by a single word. I believe that it is so, too, with the wonders of creation. We gaze with surprised and astonished eyes upon thousands of things that seem miracles to our earthly nature: we are, ourselves, miracles to ourselves; but I do believe that all the wonders that we see, the marvel of our very existence, the linking of fates together, and the long network of events and their causes, from the beginning of all things to eternity, might all be explained to us by some simple word which God's good pleasure now withholds; by some short, brief explanation, which is not fitted for this mass of moving clay to receive." As he spoke, he sat himself quietly down on the edge of the bed, took up the lamp, trimmed it in a careless manner, and then added abstractedly, "We must wait a few minutes, Monsieur de Rohan, for the horses are not come yet, and it is as well to stay here as upon the hillside." "But is there no danger of our being stopped?" demanded Bernard de Rohan. Corse de Leon smiled. "It were difficult to stop me," he said; "but nobody will try to do it. You know the Lord of Masseran is gone to Paris?" "No, indeed," replied the young cavalier; "I know nothing, and I have heard nothing, since I have been a prisoner in this dreary place. He has, of course, taken, my Isabel with him?"