She was half afraid that her former school companion would speak to her on the subject of Le Gardeur. She could not brazen it out with Amelie, who knew her too well, and if she could, she would gladly avoid the angry flash of those dark, pure eyes.
The organ was pealing the last notes of the Doxology, and the voices of the choristers seemed to reecho from the depths of eternity the words, "in saecula saeculorum," when Angelique rose up suddenly to leave the church.
Her irreverent haste caused those about her to turn their heads at the slight confusion she made, Amelie among the rest, who recognized at once the countenance of Angelique, somewhat flushed and irritated, as she strove vainly, with the help of La Force, to get out of the throng of kneeling people who covered the broad floor of the Cathedral.
Amelie deemed it a fortunate chance to meet Angelique so opportunely--just when her desire to do so was strongest. She caught her eye, and made her a quick sign to stay, and approaching her, seized her hands in her old, affectionate way.
"Wait a few moments, Angelique," said she, "until the people depart.
I want to speak to you alone. I am so fortunate to find you here."
"I will see you outside, Amelie. The Sieur La Force is with me, and cannot stay." Angelique dreaded an interview with Amelie.
"No, I will speak to you here. It will be better here in God's temple than elsewhere. The Sieur La Force will wait for you if you ask him; or shall I ask him?" A faint smile accompanied these words of Amelie, which she partly addressed to La Force.
La Force, to Angelique's chagrin, understanding that Amelie desired him to wait for Angelique outside, at once offered to do so.
"Or perhaps," continued Amelie, offering her hand, "the Sieur La Force, whom I am glad to see, will have the politeness to accompany the Lady de Tilly, while I speak to Mademoiselle des Meloises?"
La Force was all compliance. "He was quite at the service of the ladies," he said politely, "and would esteem it an honor to accompany the noble Lady de Tilly."
The Lady de Tilly at once saw through the design of her niece. She acceded to the arrangement, and left the Cathedral in company with the Sieur La Force, whom she knew as the son of an old and valued friend.
He accompanied her home, while Amelie, holding fast to the arm of Angelique until the church was empty of all but a few scattered devotees and penitents, led her into a side chapel, separated from the body of the church by a screen of carved work of oak, wherein stood a small altar and a reliquary with a picture of St. Paul.
The seclusion of this place commended itself to the feelings of Amelie. She made Angelique kneel down by her side before the altar.
After breathing a short, silent prayer for help and guidance, she seized her companion by both hands and besought her "in God's name to tell her what she had done to Le Gardeur, who was ruining himself, both soul and body."
Angelique, hardy as she was, could ill bear the searching gaze of those pure eyes. She quailed under them for a moment, afraid that the question might have some reference to Beaumanoir, but reassured by the words of Amelie, that her interview had relation to Le Gardeur only, she replied: "I have done nothing to make Le Gardeur ruin himself, soul or body, Amelie. Nor do I believe he is doing so. Our old convent notions are too narrow to take out with us into the world. You judge Le Gardeur too rigidly, Amelie."
"Would that were my fault, Angelique!" replied she earnestly, "but my heart tells me he is lost unless those who led him astray remit him again into the path of virtue whence they seduced him."
Angelique winced, for she took the allusion to herself, although in the mind of Amelie it referred more to the Intendant. "Le Gardeur is no weakling to be led astray," replied she. "He is a strong man, to lead others, not to be led, as I know better than even his sister."
Amelie looked up inquiringly, but Angelique did not pursue the thought nor explain the meaning of her words.
"Le Gardeur," continued Angelique, "is not worse, nay, with all his faults, is far better than most young gallants, who have the laudable ambition to make a figure in the world, such as women admire. One cannot hope to find men saints, and we women to be such sinners. Saints would be dull companions. I prefer mere men, Amelie!"
"For shame, Angelique! to say such things before the sacred shrine," exclaimed Amelie, indignantly stopping her. "What wonder that men are wicked, when women tempt them to be so! Le Gardeur was like none of the gallants you compare him with! He loved virtue and hated vice, and above all things he despised the companionship of such men as now detain him at the Palace. You first took him from me, Angelique! I ask you now to give him back to me. Give me back my brother, Angelique des Meloises!" Amelie grasped her by the arm in the earnestness of her appeal.
"I took him from you?" exclaimed Angelique hotly. "It is untrue!
Forgive my saying so, Amelie! I took him no more than did Heloise de Lotbiniere or Cecile Tourangeau! Will you hear the truth? He fell in love with me, and I had not the heart to repulse him,--nay, I could not, for I will confess to you, Amelie, as I often avowed to you in the Convent, I loved Le Gardeur the best of all my admirers!
And by this blessed shrine," continued she, laying her hand upon it, "I do still! If he be, as some say he is, going too fast for his own good or yours or mine, I regret it with my whole heart; I regret it as you do! Can I say more?"
Angelique was sincere in this. Her words sounded honest, and she spoke with a real warmth in her bosom, such as she had not felt in a long time.
Her words impressed Amelie favorably.
"I think you speak truly, Angelique," replied she, "when you say you regret Le Gardeur's relapse into the evil ways of the Palace. No one that ever knew my noble brother could do other than regret it.
