IN THE RAVEN'S NEST.
When Le Gros Guillem was carried back to his room, he said to his wife, "Where is Noémi?"
"I believe—that is, I suppose she is going to her Aunt Tarde at La Roque. She said something about it. Something has occurred and she is not herself. I don't know what it is."
"I dare say!" laughed the Captain. "Noémi has witnessed this day what has been seen by few girls. She stood it manfully—at the last."
"I dare say. I know nothing about it," said his wife.
"If she is going to La Roque, then Roger and Amanieu shall accompany her. I have a letter to transmit to Ste. Soure."
He sent for writing materials, and wrote in a scrawling hand:
"Dear and most valiant friend, Seigneur Jean del' Peyra at Le Peuch Ste. Soure.—Please you to know that your father is let down into oblivion. Dear and well-loved Sir, God have you ever in guard.
"Written at Domme, Wednesday, and sent by the hands of Roger and Amanieu."
That was the fashion of epistolary correspondence as conducted in those times. "Dear friend" was the salutation to a deadly foe, "God have you ever in guard," when the writer would like to cut the throat of him he addressed.
Such was the letter received by Jean del' Peyra. It was not explicit. He had been in the greatest anxiety relative to his father. That he would be put to ransom was his hope, but not his expectation.