The unhappy Countess tried to make a veil of her hands to hide her face.
"Fear nothing," said the young man; "he is on our side. You may make use of him in all security; he is mine. When the Count comes in search of you, he will warn us in time. In that confessional," he went on in an undertone, "is a canon who is a friend of mine. He will say that he has rescued you from the fray and led you, under his protection, to this chapel. Thus everything is prepared for deceiving Saint-Vallier."
On hearing this, the Countess dried away her tears, but her brow was clouded with alarm.
"There is no deceiving him," said she. "He will know everything this evening. Beware of his revenge. Go to Le Plessis, see the King, tell him that——"
She hesitated, but something gave her courage to tell the secrets of her married life, and she went on.
"Yes, tell him that to secure his mastery over me the Count has me bled in both arms and exhausts me. Tell him he has dragged me by my hair—tell him I am a prisoner—say that——"
Her heart was bursting, sobs choked her throat, a few tears fell again, and in her agitation she allowed the young man to kiss her hand while he uttered incoherent phrases.
"No one may speak to the King, poor child! Though I am the nephew of the grand captain of the crossbowmen, I cannot get into Le Plessis this night. My beloved lady, my beautiful queen!—--Good God! how she has suffered! Marie, let me say two words to you or we are lost!"
"What is to become of us?" said she.
The Countess discerned on the blackened wall a picture of the Virgin on which the light fell, and she cried out: