"`I have told her, the poor lamb!' said Madame Germain. `Her mother wished it so. Yes, she has been crying bitterly. She seems to think it will break her little heart to leave Valmont and go away to Paris.' "Pierre looked very sorrowfully at the innocent face, which seemed scarcely older than the fair baby-face of the portrait at the Chateau. "`Mother,' he said gently, `I think I would give my life for our little lady.' "`I believe you would, my boy,' said his mother. "`I cannot bear their going away,' he continued. `It is not only that we shall miss them so sorely, but I have a sort of fear for them--our lady and this tender little creature; who would protect them and take care of them in any danger as we--their own people of Valmont--would?' "`But what danger could come to them?' said Madame Germain. `You must not be fanciful, my boy. They will be in the Marquis's grand house in Paris, surrounded by his servants. And though I have no love for him, still I have no doubt he will take good care of his sister and her child. Indeed, the Countess has told me that that is one of the arguments he uses with her--he says it is not safe for two ladies alone as they are in the country in these unsettled times. For it appears there is a great deal of discontent and bad feeling about; that was a terrible business your father was telling me of the other day--a chateau burnt to the ground in the dead of night, and several of the inmates burnt to death, and no one can say who did it.' "`But then it is no mystery as to why it was done,' said Pierre. `The lord of that country is noted for his cruelty. Father said he would not wish you ever to hear the horrors that he has committed among his people; what wonder that at last some one should try to avenge them? And, mother, the Marquis is both feared and hated. I hear strange things and see strange looks when he comes over here. I cannot think that _he_ is a good protector for our ladies. They are far safer here at Valmont, where every one loves them.' "`It might be so were they going to Sarinet,' said Madame Germain, who was of a cheerful and hopeful disposition; `but in Paris! In Paris, where are the king and queen, and all the great lords and ladies, and the king's regiments of guards!--ah no, it is not there that there could ever be any revolt.' "`But dark days have been known there before now, mother, and dreadful things have been done in Paris,' persisted Pierre, who had read all the books of history he could get hold of, and had thought over what he had read. `I could tell you--' "`Hush!' said Madame Germain, speaking still, as they had been doing all the time, in a whisper; `the child is waking.' "And as she spoke Edmee opened her blue eyes and looked about her in surprise. As she saw where she was she gradually remembered all, and how it was that she had fallen asleep there, and a look of distress crept over her face as she held out her hands to her friend Pierre.