"Oui, monsieur--there is nothing wonderful in that, is there?" "And this bed?" "It is _mine_," said she, smiling. "You quite bewilder me," said I, with a sigh. Her dark eyes and white teeth shone, as she burst into a fit of laughter, and said: "_Ah, mon Dieu_, what would Jacquot--the jealous Jacquot--think, if he knew that a strange man had occupied my bed for two weeks?" "Have I been here so long?" "Yes, monsieur--you have been very ill." "And you--you----" "I have been occupying the apartments of Mademoiselle de Broglie; ah, good heaven, what were you thinking of?" said the _soubrette_, with another merry laugh. "You occupy my room in the Chateau of Bourgneuf, belonging to the Countess Ninon, mother of the young count, who now is fighting under Maréchal de Broglie in Germany." "Would Boisguiller's Hussars really have killed me, alone and defenceless as I was?" "Killed you, my poor child? of course they would." "Are they still here?" I asked, with natural anxiety. "_Ma foi!_ no--they have long since been gone in pursuit of the English, who are flying in all directions towards the sea. These Hussars are very ferocious. Some of them are contributions from the _Fours_ of Paris, and valuable contributions to the army _they_ are, as every one knows." "_Fours_--I know not what you mean." "Indeed!" "No, I assure you," said I, laying my hand by chance upon hers. "_Ma foi!_ it is quite true what Père Celestine says--nothing is taught in England but heresy. The _Fours_ in Paris are places of confinement, formed by a Monsieur d'Argenson, wherein all wanderers and vagabonds found in the streets are shut up, till the best are drafted off to the army, and several of these choice recruits fell to the lot of M. de Boisguiller. So you had an escape, my poor boy; they would positively have eaten you!" "You are very patronising, Angelique," said I, amused by the girl's manner; "pardon me, but how old are you?" "One year older than my mistress." "And she will be----" "Nineteen by the next least of St. Malo; but hush, you must not talk any more. You are looking quite flushed already; now taste this." In perfect innocence she put her plump white arm round my neck, raised my head upon her pretty shoulder, took the silver cup from the _guéridon_, and poured between my lips some of the cooling liquid it contained. "You are kind to me as a sister," said I. "And I have nursed you so long, that I quite feel like one." Her large dark eyes looked kindly into mine, and I could see my face reflected in them. "So long?" I murmured. "Yes; fourteen days and fourteen nights." "Ah, how can I ever repay all this?"