has friends posted there. Look if you can see anything of him. Cautiously, or the moonlight on your face may betray you."
Gerard peeped from the casement.
"There is no sign of Pascal. There is a guard below; he is leaning on his musket just underneath this spot. Listen!"
Listening almost breathlessly, the sounds from below came up. They heard the soldier stamping his feet as if chilled with the night air; then his musket was grounded; and a moment later the stillness was broken as he began to sing in a sweet tenor voice the ballad which Lucette was fond of carolling—
"There was a maiden in Arcady
Whose lover both feal and true,
Came riding forth from the sullen north
Her sweet white hand to woo."
As the simple words were borne to their ears they both smiled.
"Apt words," whispered Gerard gently, as he captured Gabrielle's hand and carried it to his lips.
"How shall I thank you, Gabrielle?"
"You are not yet free, monsieur," she answered, withdrawing her hand.
"Monsieur?" he whispered. "Was it not you who once reproved me for calling you mademoiselle?"
"If I think of you as Gerard, yet do I not know how to call you now."
"I am Gerard, in truth."
"Oh, I am so glad," and she sighed.
"And sigh for gladness?"
"Sigh partly for gladness—that is a woman's way, Gerard; yet not all for gladness, but partly in fear lest even now this plan of ours should in some way miscarry. Your Pascal lingers, and yet I urged him so. Pray look again."
