"It was you, then--who broke faith in the negotiations for the exchange of prisoners?" A smile came to the face of the old servant. "I had to," he said simply. "I alone am to blame. No one knew; except, perhaps, the poet, who may have surmised! It was treachery for treachery!" with sudden fierceness. "You could not have done it, nor your father, nor any of the seigneurs before him!" The young man seemed scarcely to hear; his glance had again sought my lady. "But I am only a servant---and in dealing with a viper I used its own tricks! Did you think I had forgotten those stripes? Or the blow he gave your father--in the back?" A moment Sanchez's hand fumbled at his coat; drew out a bag of oilskin. "Here is something that belonged to your father. I took it from his breast the day he died, thinking some time--I can't tell what--only it contains a letter from the former lady of the Mount! When my master got it, he told me to pack a few belongings--that we were going--never to return!" Sanchez's voice broke off; again he strove to speak; could not; put out his hand. Mechanically the Black Seigneur's closed on that of the old servant; even as it did so, the latter's fingers clutched suddenly; ceased to move. In the church now all was silent, but without arose discordant sounds, cries, harsh and vengeful, for the Governor! Starting, the Black Seigneur gazed about, toward him they were clamoring for, now lying still, at the base of the monument. Then releasing the fingers, that seemed yet to hold him, the young man sprang forward, as my lady threw herself wildly, protectingly, over her father. At that touch, the Governor's eyes opened; met hers; the Black Seigneur's! Nearer the door, now rang the shouts. His Excellency seemed to listen; to realize what they meant; to him--his daughter-- "The Governor! The Governor!" "_Trembles tyrans_! _Trembles_!" An ironical flash lit up, for an instant, the dying eyes. He, soon, would be beyond reach of these dogs--_canaille_! But she? His gaze again rested on the Black Seigneur; in that tense, fleeting second, seemed reading his very soul! "_Et la belle comtesse, sa fille_!" cried the menacing voices. A tremor crossed the Governor's face; his pale lips moved. "Forget! Save her!" An instant his eyes lingered persistently on the young man; then passed to his daughter; as they did so, slowly the light, more human and appealing than any that had ever shone there before, went out of them. My lady's fair head drooped until it lay on her father's breast; unconscious, she seemed yet to shield him with figure inert. But only for a moment! "_Et la belle comtesse_!" Stooping, the Black Seigneur snatched the slender form to his breast; ran back to the altar. There, looking around him, as one who made himself familiar with the place, his glance apparently found what it sought--a small stairway, entrance to the crypt. At the same time he started to descend, the people swept into the church.