ng.

He bowed less stiffly, expressed his willingness and his thanks, laid
hat and whip and cloak aside, unbuckled and set down his sword, and,
that done, took at table the place which his host himself prepared him.

Garnache took more careful stock of the Marquis now. He found much to
like in his countenance. It was frank and jovial; obviously that of
a sensualist, but, leastways, an honest sensualist. He was dressed
in black, as became a man who mourned his father, yet with a striking
richness of material, whilst his broad collar of fine point and the lace
cuffs of his doublet were worth a fortune.

What time they ate Monsieur de Garnache told of his journey from Paris
and of his dealings with Tressan and his subsequent adventures at
Condillac. He dwelt passingly upon the manner in which they had treated
him, and found it difficult to choose words to express the reason for
his returning in disguise to play the knight-errant to Valerie. He
passed on to speak of last night's happenings and of his escape.
Throughout, the Marquis heard him with a grave countenance and a sober,
attentive glance, yet, when he had finished a smile crept round the
sensual lips.

"The letter that I had at Milan prepared me for some such trouble as
this," said he, and Garnache was amazed at the lightness of his tone,
just as he had been amazed to see the fellow keep his countenance at
the narrative of mademoiselle's position. "I guessed that my beautiful
stepmother intended me some such scurviness from the circumstance of her
having kept me in ignorance of my father's death. But frankly, sir, your
tale by far outstrips my wildest imaginings. You have behaved very--very
bravely in this affair. You seem, in fact, to have taken a greater
interest in Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye's enlargement than the Queen
could have a right to expect of you." And he smiled, a world of
suggestion in his eyes. Garnache sat back in his chair and stared at the
man.

"This levity, monsieur, on such a subject, leaves me thunderstruck," he
said at last.

"Diable!" laughed the other. "You are too prone, after your trials; to
view its tragic rather than its comic side. Forgive me if I am smitten
only with the humour of the thing."

"The humour of the thing!" gurgled Garnache, his eyes starting from his
head. Then out leapt that temper of his like an eager hound that has
been suddenly unleashed. He brought down his clenched hand upon the
table, caught in passing a