Then, as if awaking from a dream,-- "It is well," he said aloud. "The orders I have to give you, André, are not changed; and if, as I was saying, I do not soon return, whether you learn anything about me, or whether you do not hear my name mentioned, whatever happens or does not happen, remember my words,--this is what you are to do." "I am listening, Monseigneur," said André, "and I will obey you in every detail; for I love you, and am your devoted servant." "Madame de Castro," said Gabriel, "will be at Paris within a few days. Make arrangements to be informed of her arrival as soon as possible." "It will be very easy to do that, Monseigneur." "Go to her at once if you can," continued Gabriel, "and deliver this sealed package from me. Take especial care not to lose it, André, although it contains nothing of value to any one else,--a lady's veil, nothing more. But no matter! Do you yourself deliver this veil to her in person, and say to her--" "What shall I say, Monseigneur?" asked André, seeing that his master was hesitating. "No, say nothing to her," Gabriel resumed, "except that she is free, and that I give back to her all her promises, even that of which this veil is the pledge." "Is that all, Monseigneur?" asked the page. "That is all," said Gabriel. "But, André, if nothing has been heard of me, and you see that Madame de Castro is a little anxious, you may add--But for what good? No, add nothing, André. Ask her, if you choose, to take you back into her service. Otherwise, come back here and await my return." "That is to say, Monseigneur, that you will surely come back?" asked the nurse, with tears in her eyes. "But when you said that perhaps we should not hear any more of you--" "Perhaps that would be best, dear Mother," said Gabriel, "that you should hear nothing of me. In any event, hope for the best, and await my return." "Hope, when you have disappeared from all eyes, even from those of your poor nurse! Ah, it is very hard to hope!" replied Aloyse. "But who said that I should disappear?" returned Gabriel. "Ought I not to provide for every contingency? For my own part, never fear; whatever precautions I may take I rely upon embracing you again very soon, Aloyse, with all the gratitude of my heart. That is most probable; for Providence is a kind and loving mother to him who implores her protection. Did I not begin, too, by saying to André that all my injunctions to him would probably be useless and void in the almost certain event of my return to-day?" "May God bless you for those dear words, Monseigneur!" cried poor Aloyse, moved beyond expression. "Have you no other orders to give, Monseigneur, to be executed during your absence?--which may God make of brief duration!" asked André. "Wait a moment," said Gabriel, as a thought seemed suddenly to occur to him. Seating himself at a table, he wrote the following letter to Coligny:--