“What are your orders, then?” she asked.

“To attend ma’m’selle with my best skill, to give her every comfort and care, to—­”

“Yes—­yes!”

“To keep her safely until she is called for.  That is all.”

The girl drew a long breath.

“Who will call for me, then?”

“I am not inform, ma’m’selle.”

“And I am a prisoner in this house?”

“Ma’m’selle may call it so, if it please her.  But reflect; there is no place else to go.  It is bleak weather, the winter soon comes.  And here I can make you the comforts you need.”

Louise pondered this speech, which did not deceive her.  While still perplexed as to her abduction, with no comprehension why she should have been seized in such a summary manner and spirited to this lonely, out-of-the-way place, she realized she was in no immediate danger.  Her weariness returned tenfold, and she staggered and caught the back of a chair for support.

The old woman observed this.

“Ma’m’selle is tired,” said she.  “See; it is past four by the clock, and you must be much fatigue by the ride and the nervous strain.”

“I—­I’m completely exhausted,” murmured Louise, drooping her head wearily.  The next moment she ran and placed her hands on Madame Cerise’s shoulders, peering into the round, beady eyes with tender pleading as she continued:  “I don’t know why I have been stolen away from my home and friends; I don’t know why this dreadful thing has happened to me; I only know that I am worn out and need rest.  Will you take care of me, Madame Cerise?  Will you watch over me while I sleep and guard me from all harm?  I—­I haven’t any mother to lean on now, you know; I haven’t any friend at all—­but you!”

The grim features never relaxed a muscle; but a softer look came into the dark eyes and the woman’s voice took on a faint tinge of compassion as she answered: 

“Nothing can harm ma’m’selle.  Have no fear, ma chere.  I will take care of you; I will watch. Allons! it is my duty; it is also my pleasure.”

“Are there no—­no men in the house—­none at all?” enquired the girl, peering into the surrounding gloom nervously.  “There is no person at all in the house, but you and I.”

“And you will admit no one?”

The woman hesitated.

“Not to your apartment,” she said firmly.  “I promise it.”

Louise gave a long, fluttering sigh.  Somehow, she felt that she could rely upon this promise.

“Then, if you please, Madame Cerise, I’d like to go to bed,” she said.

The woman took the lamp and led the way upstairs, entering a large, airy chamber in which a fire burned brightly in the grate.  The furniture here was dainty and feminine.  In an alcove stood a snowy bed, the covers invitingly turned down.

Madame Cerise set the lamp upon a table and without a word turned to assist Louise.  The beautiful Kermess costume, elaborately embroidered with roses, which the girl still wore, evidently won the Frenchwoman’s approval.  She unhooked and removed it carefully and hung it in a closet.  Very dextrous were her motions as she took down the girl’s pretty hair and braided it for the night.  A dainty robe de nuit was provided.