Glad at heart to think that she took thought of me, I unbarred the door, and threw myself into a chair before the fire, trying to look like one unconcerned.

The bolts were now drawn below; I heard voices, rather Scots than French, to my sense.

Then the step of one man climbed up the stair, heavily, and with the tap of a staff keeping tune to it.

It was my master.

His face was pale, and falling into a chair, he wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Unhappy man that I am!" he said, "I have lost my apprentice." I gulped something down in my throat ere I could say, "Then it is death ?" "Nay," he said, and smiled.