continue the journey in."
"Still, he must have left you alone sometimes?"
"Yes; but then he bade me sleep, and sleep I did, only waking up when he returned."
"You could not have strongly wanted to get away," observed Princess Louise, shaking her head, "or else you would have managed it."
"Alas! I was so fascinated."
"By his loving speech and endearments?"
"Seldom did he speak of love, and I remember me of no caresses save a kiss night and morning."
"Really, this is very strange?" muttered the abbess; but as a suspicion struck her, she resumed: "Repeat to me that you do not love him, and that as no worldly tie unites you, he would have no claim on you if he came."
"He has none."
"But tell me how you came here through all; for I am in a fog," said the princess.
"I took advantage of a violent thunderstorm, which broke on us near a town called Nancy, I believe. He left me to go into a part of his travelling house which is inhabited by an old man; I leaped upon his horse and fled. My resolution was to hide in Paris, or some great city where I could be lost to all eyes, especially to his. When I arrived here, all were talking of your highness' retirement into the Carmelite convent. All extolled your piety, solicitude for the unhappy, and compassion for the afflicted. This was a ray of heavenly light, showing me that you alone were generous enough to receive me and powerful enough to defend me."
"You continually appeal to power, my child, as though he were powerful?"
"I am ignorant what he is. I only know that no king inspires more respect—no idol commands more adoration—than he from those to whom he deigns to reveal himself."
"But his name—how is he entitled?"
"I have heard him called by many names. But only two remain in my memory. One is used by the old man who is his traveling companion from Milan to where I left him; the other that he gives himself. The aged man calls him Acharat, and that sounds anti-Christian, does it not, lady? He calls himself Joseph Balsamo."
"What does he say of himself?"
"He knows everything and divines what he knew not. He is the contemporary of all time. He has lived through all ages. He speaks—the Lord forgive me! and forgive him for such blasphemy! not only of Alexander the Great, Cæsar and Charlemagne, as though he had known them, albeit I believe they were dead ever so long ago, but also of the high priest Caiaphas, Pontius Pilate and Our Lord Himself, whose martyrdom he claims to have witnessed."
"He is some quack," said the Princess Louise.
"I do not clearly understand the word, madame; but he is a dangerous man, terrible too, before whom everything bends, snaps and crumbles away. When he is taken to be defenseless he is armed at all points; when believed alone, he stamps his foot and an army springs up; or at a beck of the finger—smiling the while."
"Very well," soothed the daughter of France; "take cheer, my child; you will be protected against him. So long as you desire the protection, of course. But do not believe any longer in these supernatural visions born of a sick brain. In any case the walls of St. Denis Abbey are a sure rampart against infernal power, and what is more to be dreaded, mark you! against human power. Now, what do you propose doing?"
"With this property of mine, in jewels, I mean to pay for my repose in a convent—if possible, in this one."
Lorenza placed on the table some twenty thousand crowns' worth of bracelets, rings and earrings of price.
"These jewels are mine, as Balsamo gave them to me, and I shall turn them over to Heaven's use. I have nothing of his but his steed Djerid, which was the instrument of my deliverance, but I should like him to have it. So I solicit the favor of staying here, on my knees."
"Rest easy, my child," said the lady superior; "from this time forth you may dwell among us; and when you shall have shown by your exemplary conduct that you deserve the favor, you may again be the bride of the Lord; and I will answer for it that you will not be removed out of St. Denis without knowledge of the superior."
Lorenza fell at the princess feet and poured forth the most affectionate and sincere thanks.
But suddenly she rose on one knee, and listened with trembling and pallor.
"Oh, God, how I shake! he is coming! he means to be my destroyer—that man is at hand. Do you not see how my limbs quiver?"
"I see this, indeed."
"Now I feel the stab in the heart," continued the Italian: "he comes nearer and nearer."
"You are mistaken."
"No, no. In spite of myself, he draws me to him. Hold me back from him."
Princess Louise seized the speaker in her arms.
"Recover your senses, child," she said. "Even if any one came, even he, you would be in safety here."
"He approaches—I tell you, he approaches," screamed Lorenza, terrified into inertia, but with her hands and her eyes directed toward the room door.
"Madness!" said the abbess. "Do you think that anybody can intrude on the Royal Lady of France? None but the bearer of an order from the king."
"I do not know how he entered," stammered the fugitive, recoiling, "but I am certain that he is coming up the stairs—he is not ten steps off—there he is!"
The door flew open, so that the princess receded, frightened in spite of herself by the odd coincidence. But it was a nun who appeared.
"What do you want—who is there?" cried her superior.
"Madame, it is a nobleman who presents himself to have speech with your royal highness."
"His title?"
"Count Fenix, please your highness."
"Do you know the name as his?" inquired the princess of the fugitive.
"I do not know the name, but it is he," she replied.
"Charged with a mission to the king of France from the king of Prussia," said the nun, "he wishes the honor of a hearing by your highness."
Princess Louise reflected an instant; then turning to Lorenza and bidding her go into her inner room, she ordered the sister to show in the visitor. She went and took her chair, waiting, not without emotion, for the sequel of the incident.
Almost instantly reappearing, the Carmelite ushered in a man whom we have seen under the title of Fenix, at the presentation of Jeanne Dubarry at court. He was garbed in the same Prussian uniform, of severe cut; he wore the military wig and the black stock; his expressive black eyes lowered in presence of Princess Louise, but only with the respect of any man for a princess of the royal house, whatever his rank. He raised them rapidly, as though he feared showing too much timidity.
"I thank your royal highness for the favor kindly done me," he said, "though I reckoned upon it from knowing that your highness always upholds the unfortunate."
"I
