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Updated: June 1, 2025
An Afterword: I doubt not we shall come to the heights where there is peace, though we climb thereto by a ladder of swords. Some years before Angele's letter was written, Michel de la Foret had become an officer in the army of Comte Gabriel de Montgomery, and fought with him until what time the great chief was besieged in the Castle of Domfront in Normandy.
"Michel!" she said aloud involuntarily the call of her spirit which spoke on her lips against her will. De la Foret had helped Lempriere to the bed again as he heard his name called, and he stood suddenly still, looking straight before him into space. Angele's voice seemed ghostly and unreal. "Michel!" he heard again, and he came forward into the room where she was.
It came on the evening of the very day that the Seigneur of Rozel went to Angele's father and bluntly told him he was ready to forego all Norman-Jersey prejudice against the French and the Huguenot religion, and take Angele to wife without penny or estate.
Before they left Greenwich Palace M. Aubert and Angele, De la Foret, Lempriere, and Buonespoir the Queen made Michel de la Foret the gift of a chaplaincy to the Crown. To Monsieur Aubert she gave a small pension, and in Angele's hands she placed a deed of dower worthy of a generosity greater than her own.
God knows why two Queens make such a pother over a fellow with naught but a sword and a lass to love him though, come to think, 'a man's a man if he have but a hose on his head, as the proverb runs." De la Foret smiled, then looked grave, as he caught sight of Angele's face. "'Tis arrest, then?" he asked. "'Tis come willy nilly," answered the Seigneur.
"By the camp fire they talked it over. It was decided that four of them would remain at the fort until the chieftain came to claim his captive. One of these would be Robert; the other three would be chosen by lot. "So while the others went home along the trail over which they had come, the four guarded the little fort for Angele's sake.
Not only this, but his whole body was following the direction of his eyes. Before he knew it, he was standing with his back to Angele's grave, was facing the north, facing the line of pear trees and the little valley where the Seed ranch lay. At first, he thought this was because he had allowed his will to weaken, the concentrated power of his mind to grow slack.
The little babe was taken by Angele's parents, and Angele was buried in the Mission garden near to the aged, grey sun dial. Vanamee stood by during the ceremony, but half conscious of what was going forward.
When the oil-dealer understood what a foolish bargain he had made he was not in a position to rid himself of Aristide; Angele's dowry was involved in speculations which were turning out unfavourably. He was exasperated, stung to the heart, at having to provide for his daughter-in-law's voracious appetite and keep his son in idleness.
"Speak now, mistress fugitive, and I will listen," she added, as Cecil withdrew; and she made a motion to musicians in a distant gallery. Angele's heart fluttered to her mouth, but the soft, simple music helped her, and she began with eyes bent upon the ground, her linked fingers clasping and unclasping slowly. "I was born at Rouen, your high Majesty," she said.
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