"What!" mockingly, "you forgive my attempt at Quebec to coerce you?"

"Frankly, since you did not succeed, Monsieur, I have seen too much of

men not to appreciate a brilliant stroke. Had I not torn that paper

from your hand, you might have scored at least half a trick. There is

a high place somewhere in this world for a man of your wit and courage."

"Mazarin's interpretation of that would be a gibbet on Montfaucon."

"I am offering you friendship, Monsieur." The hand remained extended.

The vicomte bowed, placed his hands behind his back and bowed again.

"Friendship and love; oil and water. Madame, when they mix well, I

will come in the guise of a friend. Sometimes I've half a mind to tell

Advertisement..

the Chevalier who you are; for, my faith! it is humorous in the

extreme. I understand that you and he were affianced, once upon a

time; and here he is, making violent love to you, not knowing your name

any more than Adam knew Eve's."

"Very well, then, Monsieur. Since there can be no friendship, there

can be nothing. Hereafter you will do me the kindness not to intrude

into my affairs."

"Madame, I am a part of your destiny. I told you so long ago."

"I am a woman, and women are helpless." Madame was discouraged. What

with that insane D'Hérouville, the Chevalier, and this mocking suitor,

her freedom was to prove but small. France, France! "And I am here in

exile, Monsieur, innocent of any wrong."

"You are guilty of beautiful eyes."

"I should have thrown myself upon Mazarin's mercy."

"Which is like unto the flesh of the fish--little blood and that cold.

You forget your beauty, Madame, and your wit. Mazarin would have found

you very guilty of these. And is not Madame de Montbazon your mother?

Mazarin loves her not overwell. Ah, but that paper! What the devil

did we sign it for? I would give a year of my life could I but put my

hands upon it."

"Or the man who stole it."

"Or the man who stole it," repeated he.

"When I return to France, I shall have a deal to revenge," her hands

clenching.

"Let me be the sword of wrath, Madame. You have but to say the word.

You love no one, you say. You are young; I will devote my life to

teaching you."

Madame's gesture was of protest and of resignation. "Monsieur, if you

address me again, I shall appeal to Father Le Mercier or Father

Chaumonot. I will not be persecuted longer."

"Ah, well!" He moved aside for her and leaned against a tree, watching

her till she disappeared within the palisade. "Now, that is a woman!

She lacks not one attribute of perfection, save it be a husband, and

that shall be found. I wonder what that fool of a D'Hérouville was

doing this morning with those dissatisfied colonists and that man

Pauquet? I will watch. Something is going on, and it will not harm to

know what." He laughed silently.




Most Popular