That was an hour of storm. I am glad that I conquered the baser
part of me; for, almost before I had grown calm again, the bolts of
the dungeon doors shot back, and presently Gabord stepped inside,
followed by a muffled figure.

"Voban the barber," said Gabord in a strange voice, and stepping
again outside, he closed the door, but did not shoot the bolts.

I stood as one in a dream. Voban the barber? In spite of cap and
great fur coat, I saw the outline of a figure that no barber ever
had in this world. I saw two eyes shining like lights set in a rosy
sky. A moment of doubt, of impossible speculation, of delicious
suspense, and then the coat of Voban the barber opened, dropped
away from the lithe, graceful figure of a young officer of marines,
the cap flew off, and in an instant the dear head, the blushing,
shining face of Alixe was on my breast.

In that moment, stolen from the calendar of hate, I ran into the
haven where true hearts cast anchor and bless God that they have
seen upon the heights, to guide them, the lights of home. The
moment flashed by and was gone, but the light it made went not
with it.

When I drew her blushing face up, and stood her off from me that
I might look at her again, the colour flew back and forth on her
cheek, as you may see the fire flutter in an uncut ruby when you
turn it in the sun. Modestly drawing the cloak she wore more
closely about her, she hastened to tell me how it was she came in
such a guise; but I made her pause for a moment while I gave her a
seat and sat down beside her. Then by the light of the flickering