“My confessor has been ill for several days,” said Mad. d’Aulney; “and, during his confinement, two missionary priests, attached to the settlement, have frequently attended him, and been permitted to pass the gates without questioning, whenever they chose.  Early this morning, I encountered a priest, of very peculiar appearance, whose person was entirely unknown to me; he was going to the sick man’s apartment, and, I have since learned, supplied the place of one who usually attended, but had unexpectedly been called away.  There was something in his tall figure, and the expression of his pale and melancholy features, which arrested my attention; I closely remarked him, and perceived that he looked round inquisitively, though he wore an air of calm abstraction, which would scarcely have been suspected by an indifferent observer.”

“It must have been father Gilbert,” said La Tour; “and, if he is concerned, I would place the utmost confidence in his prudence and fidelity.”

“That is his name,” said Mad. d’Aulney, “as I was afterwards told by Antoine, the guard, who now waits at the door”—­

“Antoine! he cannot be trusted,” interrupted La Tour; “he has once deserted my cause, and joined the standard of an enemy, and I cannot again rely on his integrity.”

“He was seduced from his duty,” returned Mad. d’Aulney; “but, I believe, has sincerely repented of his error, and is now anxious to atone for it.  You shall judge for yourself.  A few weeks since, he was so dangerously ill, that very faint hopes were entertained of his recovery; and, hearing that he was a stranger, and in many respects destitute, I was induced to visit him, and administer such comforts as his state required.  What he termed my kindness, excited his warmest gratitude, and he unburthened his conscience to me, of the crime which seemed to lie heavily on it.  He considered his disorder a visitation of Providence, inflicted as a punishment for his desertion; and he wished most earnestly to return to your service.  I was pleased with the good feelings he displayed, but advised him to rest contented for the present, promising to aid his wishes if any opportunity offered; and, from that time I have seen little of him, till since your arrival.”

“And you have now engaged his assistance?” asked La Tour; “well, be it so; once more in the open air, I fear not even treachery; and, furnished with a trusty weapon, I bid defiance to every obstacle that can oppose my freedom.”

“Caution you will find more useful than strength,” said Mad. d’Aulney; “and by its aid we have thus far succeeded, even beyond my expectations.  This afternoon, I observed father Gilbert in conversation with Antoine; and, trusting to the sincerity of the latter, I soon after found a pretext for speaking with him, and cautiously introduced the subject of your escape.  He was ready, at every risk, to assist in any measures which could be adopted; and informed me that it had already been discussed between himself and the priest, and that he was, this night, to stand sentinel at your door.  Nothing could be more propitious to our views; and, in the course of the day, we have found means to arrange every thing, I hope, with perfect safety.”