"Oh, Monseigneur knows that since we left Paris I have regained my former sobriety, and drink nothing but pure water. I have only seen double once."
"I am glad to hear it," said Gabriel. "Well, then, Martin, in two hours meet me at this spot."
"I will be here, Monseigneur."
And they separated.
Two hours later they met as they had agreed. Gabriel was radiant, but Martin-Guerre very sheepish. All that the latter had learned was that the Benedictines had chosen to share with the other women of the town the labor and honor of nursing and watching the wounded; that every day they were scattered about among the ambulances, and did not return to the convent till evening; and that soldiers and citizens alike were unsparing of their admiration and veneration for them.
Gabriel, by good luck, had learned something more. When the first person he met had told him all that Martin-Guerre had learned, Gabriel asked the name of the superior of the convent. It was, if his memory served him, Mother Monique, Diane de Castro's friend. Gabriel then inquired where the saintly woman was to be found.
"In the place where the danger is greatest," was the reply.
Gabriel made his way to the Faubourg d'Isle, and actually found the superior there. She knew already by the public reports who the Vicomte d'Exmès was, what he had said at the town-hall, and what part he was going to play at St. Quentin. She received him as the envoy of the king and the savior of the city.
"You will not be surprised, Mother," said Gabriel, "that coming in the king's name, I ask you for news of his Majesty's daughter, Madame Diane de Castro. I have sought her in vain among the nuns whom I have met on my way. She is not ill, I trust?"
"No, Monsieur le Vicomte," replied the superior; "but I required her to remain at the convent to-day, and take a little rest, for not one of us has equalled her in devotion and courage. She has been everywhere, and always ready, practising at all times and in all places, and with a sort of joy and eagerness, her sublime charity, which is our gallantry. Ah, she is the worthy daughter of the blood of France! And yet she is unwilling that her title and her rank should become known; and she will take it very kindly of you, Monsieur le Vicomte, to respect her noble incognito. But no matter! if she does hide her noble birth, she shows her kind heart; and all those who are suffering rejoice to see her angel's face pass like a ray of celestial hope in the midst of their pain. She is called, from the name of the order, Sister Benedicta; but our poor wounded fellows, who do not know Latin, call her the Sister Bénie."