I recall still, a pang tugging at my old heart, with what unspeakable gentleness Eloise came forward, holding forth both white hands in greeting, while unrestrained tears glistened upon the long lashes partly veiling the eager glow of soft eyes searching my face.  She uttered never a word of questioning relative to the result of my mission; merely stood there silent, her warm hands in mine, her gaze fastened upon me, as if within my eyes she sought to read everything unasked.  Perhaps she did, yet to me it seemed the perfect abandon of trust, and often since have I thought upon it as illustrative of her unswerving confidence in my honor.

“I do so thank you, Geoffrey Benteen,” she said in all simplicity, “for thus coming to us once more.”

“I returned the earliest moment possible, Madame,” I replied quietly, although all my heart must have leaped responsive into my eyes, contradicting such coolness of speech.  Be that as it may, my sweet mistress never glanced aside, nor drew back her hands from mine.  It was the gravely observant priest, standing behind within the shadows, whose natural impatience caused him to interrupt our greeting, although he spoke not unkindly.

“My son,” he said, deep anxiety evident in the tone of his soft speech, “we have remained in solemn prayer ever since the hour of thy departure, and, while we doubt not our petitions have found favor of both Mother and Child, yet the flesh sorroweth, and we yearn greatly to know all from thine own lips as to the fortunes of this day.  Tell us, I beg thee, hast thou discovered aught of comfort or help for the condemned?”

His words brought me back to earth with sudden rush.  Releasing the soft hands I had been clasping so tightly in momentary forgetfulness, I led the lady to a seat, even finding another myself before venturing upon reply.

“I thank you heartily for your prayers, Sir Priest.  Often have I heard my father say the prayer of the righteous availeth much, and although I be not of Holy Church—­for those to whom I looked in earlier years for guidance were of the dissenting breed—­yet I yield respect to all true religion; and even in the woods, where men grow rough, giving small thought to the voice of their souls, I have discovered much to tell me of God, and to make me thankful for His mercies.  But you ask a difficult question.  The day has not been ill spent nor wasted.  This much, at least, I may say—­I have discovered one weak spot in the Spanish guard-line, and intend to make the best possible use of it.  Yet the venture is bound to prove a desperate one, and nothing except the overruling care of Him who guides us all can secure the desired outcome.”

He piously crossed himself, his thin lips moving silently above the silver crucifix resting in his white fingers, but Eloise only leaned more eagerly forward, her dark eyes anxiously scanning my face.

“Have you seen my—­the Chevalier de Noyan?” she questioned tremblingly.