Ashamed but impenitent--it was too new, too sweet to wish undone--I loosed her gently, and kissed her hand but once again, then left her standing where the light from the mullioned window in halos wreathed my saint. It was thus I ever afterward remembered her. She made no other sign; I withdrew swiftly as I came. From across the wall, unobserved, I watched her leave the place, downcast of eye and slow of step. In rebellious and uncertain mood I rode away. Though the relish in my task was done, I made all haste toward Dieppe. Scarcely stopping for food, changing horses as often as I could, I pushed on without adventure until I reached the Chateau Cartillon, then a formless ruin. Here my saddle girth broke and I was nearly thrown to the ground. I scrambled off, walked to the little inn where I inquired how far I had yet to go. "Three leagues yet to Dieppe," the host replied, "but Monsieur can not go on to-night; he must wait the morrow; he can go with comfort in the morning." I sent my groom for a new girth and found it would take quite an hour to procure one from the village. "Probably Monsieur would visit the castle upon the hill there," persisted the landlord, pointing across the way, "it is worth his while. It is said to have been destroyed by the Great Henry in his wars with the Duke of Mayenne. True it is that sounds of battle and screams are yet heard there on stormy nights. Probably Monsieur would rest here several days----." I essayed to silence the fellow, for I was in no mood to listen to his chatter. Yet there was something in his eulogy of the locality, which he gave as a hawker crying his wares, that fixed my unwilling attention. "And, Monsieur, perchance you may see old mad Michel. What! you know naught of him? Country folk do say his grandam witnessed the murder of the Count, and that it sent her feeble mind a-wandering. Her child through all her life did fancy herself the Count, and made strange speeches to the people's fear. And now this grandson of hers has grown old in frenzy like his mother and grandam, possessed of an evil spirit which speaks through him betimes--it is a curse of the blood, Monsieur, a grievous curse of the blood." It aroused something of a curiosity within me, yet I was loath to pause upon my journey. Forced, though, to wait an hour, I thought to walk over to the Chateau a couple of hundred yards distant. Taking a lad who lounged about the inn, to show me the way, I sauntered up the path, pausing a while at a long-disused spring, and idly plucked an apple from a branch which over-hung it. A little further up, and mounting the steep acclivity, I stood within the ancient fortress.