“Ah, Monsieur St. Vincent, you are welcome to the province. It is always our wish to obtain such men as you. Broad shoulders and a true heart, they are the strength of Yorke.” He turned to Annetje. “We must see your pretty face unmasked at the Assembly Ball—and Monsieur St. Vincent also,” bowing to me. He would have invited the devil himself if he had come in company with a lady; but had he known what a revelation I should bring to that public ball the color would have left his cheeks. But that is to come. A few more commonplace remarks passed between us and then we parted. “I can understand it now,” said Annetje as we rode towards home. “I often wonder how he keeps it all away from our sweet mistress; but if all the men are like that—no wonder. Who would have thought that he was talking to the daughter of his worst enemy? Yet she—God bless her innocent heart—she does not even know that her father is in disgrace with the privy-council.” “But you seem to.” “Ay, Pierre,” she answered, indicating the source of her information. She turned towards me, taking off her mask as she did so. We were out in the country again, following a by-path north of the city where there was no longer any danger of meeting folk to recognize us. I had been used to see in her a merry face sparkling with humor. Now, when she unmasked, her brows were puckered up, and her childish face wore a sober, puzzled look. “Ay, Pierre. I love him if I do tease him. What is more, I trust him, too. He knows me well. Your secret is safe with me, Monsieur Le Bourse. You see that I know all about you. I brought you out this afternoon because I knew that we should meet Pierre. I dare say you had something for his ear if he had none for yours. I do not know why you are here. I do not even ask. Pierre is your safety and I am satisfied. But beware; I am a watchdog to my mistress. If you do anything against her I’ll cut your throat.” “Annetje,” I cried. “You can trust me there. I shall protect her with my life for the love she bore my sister. Tell me one thing. How is it that she can stand what is going on at Hanging Rock?” “She does not know it.” “How can she help knowing it?” “Because we all love her. Even the patroon would lay down his life for her. Do you suppose he is afraid to have her know the truth? It is because he loves her and would save her pain.” “I have seen him try to strike her with a glass.” “It was in anger. He has a strange infirmity that comes upon him suddenly. He does not know what he is doing when it has got hold of him. She forgives all that, her heart is so big.” “But last night—the death of Ronald Guy?” “Hush, not a word of that before her. She knows nothing of all that.” “But she does know it. She was on the terrace. I saw her with my own eyes.”