s like a blow. "Mademoiselle," he snarled, "is expecting news
from Cahors, from her lover. I have the honour to congratulate M. de
Pavannes on his conquest."

Ah! he had guessed it! As the words fell on the sleepy silence, an
insult in themselves, I sprang to my feet, amazed and angry, yet
astounded by his quickness of sight and wit. He must have recognized
the Pavannes badge at that distance. "M. le Vidame," I said
indignantly--Catherine was white and voiceless--"M. le Vidame--" but
there I stopped and faltered stammering. For behind him I could see
Croisette; and Croisette gave me no sign of encouragement or support.

So we stood face to face for a moment; the boy and the man of the
world, the stripling and the ROUE. Then the Vidame bowed to me in
quite a new fashion. "M. Anne de Caylus desires to answer for M. de
Pavannes?" he asked smoothly; with a mocking smoothness.

I understood what he meant. But something prompted me--Croisette said
afterwards that it was a happy thought, though now I know the crisis to
have been less serious than he fancied to answer, "Nay, not for M. de
Pavannes. Rather for my cousin." And I bowed. "I have the honour on
her behalf to acknowledge your congratulations, M. le Vidame. It
pleases her that our nearest neighbour should also be the first outside
the family to wish her well. You have divined truly in supposing that
she will shortly be united to M. de Pavannes."

I suppose--for I saw the giant's colour change and his lip quiver as I
spoke--that his previous words had been only a guess. For a moment the
devil seemed to be glaring through his eyes; and he looked at Marie and
me as a wild animal at its keepers. Yet he maintained his cynical
politeness in part. "Mademoiselle desires my congratulations?" he
said, slowly, labouring with each word it seemed. "She shall have them
on the happy day. She shall certainly have them then. But these are
troublous times. And Mademoiselle's betrothed is I think a Huguenot,
and has gone to Paris. Paris--well, the air of Paris is not good for
Huguenots, I am told."

I saw Catherine shiver; indeed she was on the point of fainting, I
broke in rudely, my passion getting the better of my fears. "M. de
Pavannes can take care of himself, believe me," I said brusquely.

"Perhaps so," Bezers answered, his voice like the grating of steel on
steel. "But at any rate this will be a memorable day for Mademoiselle.
The day on which she r