"Ay, parbleu! I had forgot," replied Chasseron. "There is a young lady, Monsieur de Montigni, who has been ill treated and injured by those who ought to have protected her. She is here, in the midst of the camp; and though, to say truth, I know little of her, yet I am sure, she deserves not all that has fallen upon her. She has applied to me for protection and assistance, but I am in no condition to give her what she seeks, effectually. Were I to send her to the village, ill tongues might fall upon us both unreasonably. There is no woman in camp but your fair lady here, and love makes a man kind-hearted towards others of the sex that has enthralled him. If then you would give this girl protection, and aid, in case of need, I should feel grateful, and you would do a good act towards one who, God help her, has few to take her part. From injury I could protect her; from insult and grief, it would need much time and attention, to defend her, were she to take up her dwelling in the camp; and though woman may cling to man as her support and stay, she has no true companionship but with woman. Will you then beseech your sweet lady love to befriend her, and let her pass the night in the farm?" "Willingly," replied De Montigni; "but where is she?" "Oh, at a cottage hard by, above," answered Chasseron; "she has been there since last night; when we had a rougher journey than even you have had. I will send her down immediately by some of my men, who are there at the top of the hill. So once more, good night, and God speed us all to-morrow." Thus saying he turned away, and De Montigni trod back his steps to the farm, musing over the request that had been made, and the promise he had given. It was not that he doubted, it was not that he entertained suspicions; his mind was too clear and free from that fatal experience, which mingles the dark drop with the brightest cup of life, to entertain one injurious thought; but the responsibility, the care that already rested upon him, was enough to weigh him down. His anxiety for her he loved, his longing desire to remain with her, never to leave her, till she was placed in security, contending with his strong and overpowering desire to be present at the struggle which was approaching, surrounded him with difficulties enough; and now they were to be increased by the presence of a third, placed under his protection for the time, and demanding from any one of kindly and courteous feeling equal care and attention. He could have wished it otherwise: but still he felt that he could not have refused, and he hastened back into the house to tell Rose d'Albret of what had occurred, and to ask her countenance and sympathy for the stranger.