asoning, feminine obstinacy
so wrought upon him that he permitted himself a smile and a lapse into
irony and banter.

"Parfaitement," said he, spreading his hands, and bowing. "Why speak of
trouble, then?"

She beat her whip impatiently against her gown, her eyes staring into
the fire. "Because, my attitude being such as it is, trouble will there
be."

The Seneschal shrugged his shoulders, and moved a step towards her. He
was cast down to think that he might have spared himself the trouble
of donning his beautiful yellow doublet from Paris. She had eyes for no
finery that afternoon. He was cast down, too, to think how things might
go with him when this trouble came. It entered his thoughts that he had
lain long on a bed of roses in this pleasant corner of Dauphiny, and
he was smitten now with fear lest of the roses he should find nothing
remaining but the thorns.

"How came the Queen-Regent to hear of--of
mademoiselle's--ah--situation?" he inquired.

The Marquise swung round upon him in a passion.

"The girl found a dog of a traitor to bear a letter for her. That is
enough. If ever chance or fate should bring him my way, by God! he shall
hang without shrift."

Then she put her anger from her; put from her, too, the insolence and
scorn with which so lavishly she had addressed him hitherto. Instead she
assumed a suppliant air, her beautiful eyes meltingly set upon his face.

"Tressan," said she in her altered voice, "I am beset by enemies. But
you will not forsake me? You will stand by me to the end--will you not,
my friend? I can count upon you, at least?"

"In all things, madame," he answered, under the spell of her gaze. "What
force does this man Garnache bring with him? Have you ascertained?"

"He brings none," she answered, triumph in her glance.

"None?" he echoed, horror in his. "None? Then--then--"

He tossed his arms to heaven, and stood a limp and shaken thing. She
leaned forward, and regarded him stricken in surprise.

"Diable! What ails you?" she snapped. "Could I have given you better
news?"

"If you could have given me worse, I cannot think what it might have
been," he groaned. Then, as if smitten by a sudden notion that flashed a
gleam of hope into this terrifying darkness that was settling down upon
him, he suddenly looked up. "You mean to resist him?" he inquired.

She stared at him a second, then laughed, a thought unpleasantly.

"Pish! But you are mad," she scorned him. "Do you need