Red Caps and Lilies

tanding by the window, and he crossed over to them, his jeweled riding crop and his gloves in his hand. His bright hair wa

in front and the girls are behind them, with Neville following. Why

e people and has no longer any use for our kind. He is wise to go, for his ne

rm about Flambeau's neck

ow what you mean,

d of his house, but he had never been taught to think things out for himself. He had hardly ever been alone in all his life, for when he rode or walked a tutor had always been with him. He h

ght," Marie Josephine said. She wanted to ask about the blue velvet

come back because he had teased her. She knew th

masqué, Lisle. It's going to b

e fat Bertran needs a good caning instead of a bal masqué. He knows I know he cheated at fencing last wee

g and queen are in such danger, but let the children enjoy themselves while they

He lifted Marie Josephine's chin and looked at her. "You are an odd little mortal. You are

about the silly par

home, no matter how late it is?" s

h a little figure sitting there on the broad window

ay. Proté was in the housekeeper's room havi

ad had the adventure. She had often sat with him while he read or wrote and on that particular day she had found him looking at her in his sad, wistful way. The others had gone for a drive with Madame le Pont. The servants, except

omise me first that you will keep this afternoon locked up in your heart. Do not breathe of it to any soul unless the time should come when by so doing you feel that you will be of service to those you hold dear. Do yo

dfather?" she had asked, al

. Be grateful that from them all I have chosen you. I am taking you down into t

s intent on something which had caught his interest in the garden below. His bark

s. When they reached the staircase, Marie Josephine leaned over the banister and listened, and Flambeau stopped and listened

ne foot before the other very carefully on the uneven hollows of the stone steps. It was a long way down to the cellars. They stopped to rest several

te at Les Vignes, the Saint Frères' summer home in Pigeon Valley. Barrels of apples and potatoes stood in

and Dian and Pince Nez, the crow. I want our home, Les Vign

ephine had seen him before, or at any rate one of his kind. He was a part of the expedition and the fun. She liked sitting there in the gloom, with Flambeau's head against her knee, the silence of the house above her, and below her the secre

She knelt down near a pile of sacks filled with potatoes, and felt along the cold floor. Sti

Saint Frère is ever afraid. Grandfather said so;

are from the corner that she wanted, and she found it easily, in spite of the shado

am

es, even though it never seems as though it really could

ng her palm on the center of the seventh stone, and pressing down upon it. At the same time she laid her other hand on the upper left side of the stone and pushed away from her

ned the lanthorn's squeaky little lid, and lit the wick. A bright blue flame shot up at once, and, when she had shut the wee door, settled to a steady flame. She turned around and began to descend backward, resting the la

l closeness enveloped them. Finally they reached the last step and found themselves on another

about the strange place. A huge red rug hung against one side of the wall, and above a great carved chest at the other end was a tapestry of the crusaders. The rug, though old, was still in good condition. It had been hung there by a Saint

aid the first stone of this ancient place and whose one thought had been always to help others and to serve the right. As she sat there she felt the tears smarting in her eyes. She was thinking of her grandfather too. She fancied that she could see him walking up and do

val! It was standing here when Lisle Saint Frère, your oldest ancestor, was brought home mortally wounded, and that is farther back than even your fancy can take you, little one-almost as long ago as the time of Charlemagne and the Song of Roland! It was built in t

at there in the dim stillness, she remembered that his face h

y the misery of those upon our lands. There is a time coming, mark me well, Marie, when the old days shall be at an end, when new ways of freedom shall sweep the old régime away. You will live to see that day. Be strong,

"Lisle is the tru

ever known of it except one of our family in every generation and one other who is outside the family. Keep it a secret unless the ti

p, called Flambeau, and slowly and carefully they made their way up the steep, ladderlike stairs. A grey gleam of light greeted them through the open s

e who had helped to build it with his own mailed hands. Last of all she thought of her grandfather and of the honor he had done her in letting her be the Saint Frère of her generation to know the secre