By and by there was a halt at Corbeil, where was the nunnery of Alice Bourke, of whom her brother and sister-in-law were to take leave.  They, with the children, were set down there, while Arthur went on with the carriage and servants to the inn to dine.

It was the first visit of Ulysse to the convent, and he was much amazed at peeping at his aunt’s hooded face through a grating.  However, the family were admitted to dine in the refectory; but poor Madame de Bourke was fit for nothing but to lie on a bed, attended affectionately by her sister-in-law, Soeur Ste. Madeleine.

‘O sister, sister,’ was her cry, ’I must say it to you—­I would not to my poor mother—­that I have the most horrible presentiments I shall never see her again, nor my poor child.  No, nor my husband; I knew it when he took leave of me for that terrible Spain.’

‘Yet you see he is safe, and you will be with him, sister,’ returned the nun.

’Ah! that I knew I should!  But think of those fearful Pyrenees, and the bandits that infest them—­and all the valuables we carry with us!’

‘Surely I heard that Marshal Berwick had offered you an escort.’

’That will only attract the attention of the brigands and bring them in greater force.  O sister, sister, my heart sinks at the thought of my poor children in the hands of those savages!  I dream of them every night.’

‘The suite of an ambassador is sacred.’

’Ah! but what do they care for that, the robbers?  I know destruction lies that way!’

’Nay, sister, this is not like you.  You always were brave, and trusted heaven, when you had to follow Ulick.’

’Alas! never had I this sinking of heart, which tells me I shall be torn from my poor children and never rejoin him.’

Sister Ste. Madeleine caressed and prayed with the poor lady, and did her utmost to reassure and comfort her, promising a neuvaine for her safe journey and meeting with her husband.

‘For the children,’ said the poor Countess.  ’I know I never shall see him more.’

However, the cheerfulness of the bright Irish-woman had done her some good, and she was better by the time she rose to pursue her journey.  Estelle and Ulysse had been much petted by the nuns, and when all met again, to the great relief of Arthur, he found continuous weeping was not de rigueur.  When they got in again, he was able to get rid of his sword, and only trod on two pair of toes, and got his legs twice tumbled over.

Moreover, Madame de Bourke had recovered the faculty of making pretty speeches, and when the weapon was put into the sword case, she observed with a sad little smile, ’Ah, Monsieur! we look to you as our defender!’

‘And me too!’ cried little Ulysse, making a violent demonstration with his tiny blade, and so nearly poking out his uncle’s eye that the article was relegated to the same hiding-place as ‘Monsieur Arture’s,’ and the boy was assured that this was a proof of his manliness.