On the present occasion, he was followed by a page bearing his sword; for, as we have before said, during many years after he had been elected to the bishopric of Senlis, he retained the habit of a knight hospitaller; but the boy, though accustomed to mark his lord's countenance, beheld nothing there but the usual steady gravity of profound thought.

As he passed backwards and forwards, the voices of two persons conversing in the garden hard by struck his ear. At first, the speakers were afar off, and their tones indistinct; but gradually they came so near, that their words even would have been perfectly audible, had Guerin been one to play the eaves-dropper; and then again they passed on, the sounds dying away as they pursued their walk round their garden.

"The queen's voice," said Guerin to himself; "and, if I mistake not, that of the Count D'Auvergne. He arrived at Compiègne last night, by Philip's own invitation, who expected to have returned from Gournay long since. Pray God, he fail not there! for one rebuff in war, and all his barons would be upon him at once. I wish I had gone myself; for he is sometimes rash. If he were to return now, and find this Auvergne with the queen, his jealousy might perchance spring from his own head. But there is no hope of that: as he came not last night, he will not arrive till evening."

Such was the course of Guerin's thoughts, when a page, dressed in a bright green tunic of silk, approached, and, addressing himself to the follower of the minister, asked his way to the garden of the château.

"Why, you must go a mile and more round, by the town, and in at the great gates of the castle," replied Guerin's page.--"What do you seek in the garden?"

"I seek the Count d'Auvergne," replied the youth, "on business of life and death; and they told me that he was in the garden behind the château, close by the forest.--My curse upon all misleaders!" and he turned to retread his steps through the town.

Guerin had not heeded this brief conversation, but had rather quickened his pace, to avoid hearing what was said by the queen and the Count d'Auvergne, who at the moment were passing, as we have said, on the other side of the palisade, and spoke loud, in the full confidence that no human ears were near. A few words, however, forced themselves upon his hearing.

"And such was my father's command and message," said Agnes in a sorrowful tone.

"Such, indeed, it was, lady," replied the Count d'Auvergne; "and he bade me entreat and conjure you, by all that is dear and sacred between parent and child----"

Guerin, as we have said, quickened his pace: and what the unhappy Count d'Auvergne added was lost, at least to him. Sufficient time had just elapsed, to allow the speakers in the garden to turn away from that spot and take the sweep towards the castle, when the sound of horse was heard approaching. Guerin advanced to the end of one of the alleys, and to his surprise beheld the king, followed by about a dozen men-at-arms, coming towards the castle in all haste.