Not long afterwards a ship was crossing the channel to Dover, on a calm sea with a blue sky overhead. The white foam gathered in its wake and the sun glistened on its full-set sails and on the flag bearing the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew. On the deck stood Rosaline and her lover,—her husband now, for they had been wedded in the Cévennes,—and near them sat Babet contentedly feeding Truffe with a cake. Rosaline leaned on the rail, looking back toward France.
“Dear native land,� she sighed softly, “I may never see you more; yet I am content. Ah, François, we ought to be thankful indeed. I am glad that Cavalier sent you to England; I can bear no more, and it may be we can move these strangers to help the cause.�
“I pray so,� he replied gently; “England’s queen is favorable to us. At least, you will be safe; I could not take my wife to those rugged hiding-places in the Cévennes, with winter so near. Ah, my love, are you satisfied?�
She looked up with tender eyes. “I am content, my husband,� she answered softly. “I bless the bon Dieu, but my heart is sore at the thought of poor Charlot. Can it be that the blacksmith’s boy was mistaken? Could they really hang him for not betraying us?�
“I fear so,� replied d’Aguesseau sadly; “the report came straight enough. Let us remember, though, that it ended his sufferings; he told me that his life was full of pain.�
Rosaline looked back over the blue sea with tearful eyes.
“Poor little Charlot,� she murmured gently. “The hunchbacked cobbler with the soul of a hero and a martyr. His memory shall be sacred to me forever.�
THE END
The Cardinal’s Musketeer
AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE
BY
MARY IMLAY TAYLOR
12mo, $1.25.