s, and then let his
gaze wander out through the window.

"Is Monseigneur proposing to pay me the interest on his bonds?"

"To be sure I am."

"I do not ask for it."

"Devil care I if you ask or not! Count the notes, if you please."

Dominique took a packet in his hands for a moment, still with his
eyes bent absently on the window, fingered the notes, and laid them
back on the table.

"Monseigneur will do me the justice to own that in former times I
have given him good advice in business. I beg him to keep these
notes for a while. In a month or two their value will have trebled,
whichever Government redeems them."

The Commandant struck the table. "In a few hours, sir, I shall be a
dead man. My honour cannot wait so long; and since the question is
now of honour, not of business, you will keep your advice to
yourself. Be quick, please; for time presses, and I have some
instructions to leave to my brother. At my death he will sell the
Seigniory. The Government will take its quint of the purchase-money,
and out of the remainder you shall be paid. My daughter will then go
penniless, but at least I shall have saved her from a creditor with
such claims as you are like to press. And so, sir, I hope you have
your answer."

"No, Monseigneur, not my answer. That I will never take but from
Mademoiselle Diane herself."

"By God, you shall have it here and now!" The Commandant stepped to
the window and threw open the casement. "Diane!" he called.

She came. She stood in the doorway; and Dominique--a moment before
so bold--lowered his eyes before hers. At sight of him her colour
rose, but bravely. She was young, and had been making her account
with death. She had never loved Dominique; she had feared him at
times, and at times pitied him; but now fate had lifted her and set
her feet on a height from which she looked down upon love and fear
with a kind of wonder that they had ever seemed important, and even
her pity for him lost itself in compassion for all men and women in
trouble. In truth, Dominique looked but a miserable culprit before
her.

The Commandant eyed him grimly for a moment before turning to her.

"Diane," he said with grave irony, "you will be interested to learn
that Monsieur Dominique Guyon here has done you the honour to request
your hand in marriage."

She did not answer, but stood reading their faces.

"Moreover, on my declining that honour, he tells me that he will take
his an