apartment of Madam Tremblay, the aunt of the Count of Plouernel. The Marchioness was still the woman of the court which she was at the time of her journey to The Hague. She was conversing confidentially with Abbot Boujaron, who seemed to be deeply preoccupied. The two had not yet wholly gotten over the experiences of what they called their "accursed journey to Holland," where they came near being torn to pieces, but where they had, they said, "at least the satisfaction of knowing at first hand of the massacre of the two republican heretics, those De Witt brothers." It was a narrow escape, but the worthy pair succeeded in eluding the popular fury that exploded against the French party by leaving The Hague, again reaching the port of Delft--thanks to Serdan, who, nevertheless they held to be a fellow of felonious instincts--and there embarking on a neutral vessel bound for Havre, where they landed without further incident. From Havre the two went to Versailles, Mademoiselle Plouernel's flat refusal to accompany them to England having put an end to their project of a voyage to that country. Besides, the young lady's health was so much impaired that they would have been compelled to give up that journey even had she not opposed it. They took her along to Versailles. Upon their arrival there the Marchioness summoned Monsieur Fagon, Louis XIV's leading physician. That illustrious doctor declared that the young woman's illness was a mystery to him. Despite all his assiduous care, despite all the resources of his art, Bertha of Plouernel remained between life and death, her strength being undermined by a slow fever that rendered her almost unconscious, and that reduced her to the point of being but the shadow of her former self. In fact, she was taken to be at death's door, when an unexpected but favorable crisis set in, as unexplainable as the disease itself, according to Monsieur Fagon, and restored her to health. Her convalescence lasted more than six months. In the spring of the year Monsieur Fagon advised Bertha's aunt to send her to Brittany, assuring her that the girl's native climate would complete the cure. Accordingly Bertha was sent ahead to Plouernel under the escort of one of her brother's equerries, two of her aunt's women, and an old nurse, Marion, who had cared for her from childhood. When the Marchioness and her Abbot arrived there themselves, they found Bertha greatly restored. Her cheeks had resumed their rosy hue. It was about this very illness and recovery that the pair were anxiously conversing. "We now feel reassured on the score of your niece's physical condition," said Abbot Boujaron; "but--and this is the important point--what is your opinion concerning her moral condition? To me it seems there is much to be wished for."