The spirits of the garrison revived with the expectation of relief, which was no longer considered a matter of uncertainty.  In the fulness of these renovated hopes, a boat from M. d’Aulney approached with an officer bearing a flag of truce.  He was received with becoming courtesy, and immediately shewn into the presence of Mad. la Tour.  In spite of his contempt for female authority, and his apathy to female charms, a feeling of respectful admiration softened the harshness of his features, as the sturdy veteran bent before her, with the almost forgotten gallantry of earlier years.  At that period of life, when the graces of youth have just ripened into maturity, the lady of La Tour was as highly distinguished by her personal attractions, as by the strength and energy of her mind.  Her majestic figure displayed the utmost harmony of proportion, and the expression of her regular and striking features united, in a high degree, the sweetest sensibilities of woman, with the more bold and lofty attributes of man.  At times, an air of hauteur shaded the openness of her brow, but it well became her present situation, and the singular command she had of late assumed.  She received the messenger of D’Aulney with politeness, but the cold reserve of her countenance and manner, convinced him, that his task was difficult, if not hopeless.  For an instant, his experienced eye drooped beneath her piercing glance; and, perceiving her advantage, she was the first to break the silence.

“What message from my lord of D’Aulney,” she asked, “procures me the honor of this interview? or is it too bold for a woman’s ear, that you remain thus silent?  I have but brief time to spend in words, and would quickly learn what brave service he now demands of me?”

“My lord of D’Aulney,” replied the officer, “bids me tell you, that he wars not with women; that he respects your weakness, and forgives the injuries which you have sought to do him.”

“Forgives!” said the lady, with a contemptuous smile; “thy lord is gracious and merciful,—­aye, merciful to himself, perhaps, and careful for his poor vessels, which but yesterday shivered beneath our cannon!  Is this all?”

“He requires of you,” resumed the officer, piqued by her scornful manner, “the restoration of those rights, which the lord of la Tour hath unjustly usurped; he requires the submission of this garrison, and the possession of this fort, and pledges his word, on such conditions, to preserve inviolate the life and liberty of every individual.”

“Thy lord is most just and reasonable in his demands,” returned the lady, sarcastically; “but hath he no threats in reserve, no terrors wherewith to enforce compliance?”

“He bids me tell you,” said the excited messenger, “that if you reject his offered clemency, you do it at your peril, and the blood of the innocent will be required at your hands.  He knows the weakness of your resources, and he will come with power to shake these frail walls to their foundations, and make the stoutest heart within them tremble with dismay.”