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"Under those circumstances I will gladly accompany you," said Nigel. They soon reached the portals of a large building, through which, after some hesitation on the part of the guards, the steward and his companion were admitted.

"My friendship with Mademoiselle Karetsky," he protested, "is scarcely likely to influence her political views." "I am a somewhat close observer," Jesson continued. "You will not ask me to believe that your conversation with mademoiselle in her box at the Opera last night related all the time to well, shall we say music?" "Nigel, you never told me you were at the Opera," Maggie intervened.

Nigel himself was less attentive, for the appearance of this lady seemed so extraordinary, that, strictly as he had been bred up by his father to pay the most reverential attention during performance of divine service, his thoughts in spite of himself were disturbed by her presence, and he earnestly wished the prayers were ended, that his curiosity might obtain some gratification.

"Nigel," he sighed, "I am afraid I shall be putting upon your shoulders a terrible burden, but there is no one else to whom I can turn." "There is no one else to whom you ought to turn, sir," the young man replied simply. "I shall be back in an hour."

And Nigel at nine o'clock to-morrow! The wind roared outside. One of the hanging wooden shutters that protected the windows had got loose, and was now, at short intervals, striking against the wall with a violent sound that suggested to her a malefactor trying to break in.

"We must fight for our lives, my friends," cried Captain Billard. "On! on! But keep together." The bold front which he and his companions showed for a time kept back their assailants; but a voice, which Nigel recognised as that of the priest, was heard shouting, "Down with them! down with them!" and the mob again pressed them close.

Was this close, uncomfortable companionship of the spirit to be forced on him again? If Wynne were present he felt he would be powerless to avoid it. "Do you know Dacre Wynne?" he asked, his voice betraying an emotion that was almost fear. 'Toinette Brellier glanced at her uncle, hesitated, and then murmured: "Yes I do. I didn't know you did, Nigel. He never spoke of you.

A strong and active steed was soon engaged, with the promise that it should be ready at the door of the hostelry at an early hour next morning. Leslie, leaving Nigel at the Angel inn, returned to his duty at the palace, while the latter, having ordered his supper, retired to his room to think over the events of the day.

The cheek of Nigel Bruce was pale, but there was firmness in the glance of his bright eye, and a smile unclouded in its joyance on his lip. The frivolous lightness of the courtier, the mad bravado of knight-errantry, which was not uncommon to the times, indeed, were not there.

It was the Duke of Athens, Constable of France, but none had time to note it, and the fight rolled on over his body. Looser still were the French ranks. Many were turning their horses, for that ominous roar from the rear had shaken their resolution. The little English wedge poured onward, the Prince, Chandos, Audley and Nigel ever in the van.

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