stay; I remember you told La Jonquiere, who
repeated it to me, that there was a family feud: tell me the cause."

"It is useless, monseigneur, to tire you with that; it would not
interest you."

"Never mind, tell it me."

"Well, the regent killed my brother."

"The regent killed your brother! how so? it is--impossible, Monsieur de
Gaston," said the Duc d'Olivares.

"Yes, killed; if from the effect we go to the cause."

"Explain yourself; how could the regent do this?"

"My brother, who, being fifteen years of age when my father died, three
months before my birth, stood to me in the place of that father, and of
mother, who died when I was still in the cradle--my brother loved a
young girl who was brought up in a convent by the orders of the prince."

"Do you know in what convent?"

"No: I only know that it was at Paris."

The duke murmured some words which Gaston could not hear.

"My brother, a relation of the abbess, had seen this young girl and
asked her hand in marriage. The prince's consent to this union had been
asked, and he made a pretense of granting it, when this young girl,
seduced by her so-called protector, suddenly disappeared. For three
months my brother hoped to find her, but all his searches were vain; he
found no trace of her, and in despair he sought death in the battle of
Ramillies."

"And what was the name of this girl!"

"No one ever knew, monseigneur; to speak her name was to dishonor it."

"It was doubtless she," murmured the duke, "it was Helene's mother; and
your brother was called--?" added he aloud.

"Olivier de Chanlay, monseigneur."

"Olivier de Chanlay!" repeated the duke, in a low voice. "I knew the
name of De Chanlay was not strange to me." Then, aloud, "Continue,
monsieur; I listen to you."

"You do not know what a family hatred is in a province like ours. I had
lavished upon my brother all the love which would have fallen to the
share of my father and mother, and now I suddenly found myself alone in
the world. I grew up in isolation of heart, and in the hope of revenge;
I grew up among people who were constantly repeating, 'It was the Duc
d'Orleans who killed your brother.' Then the duke became regent, the
Breton league was therefore organized. I was one of the first to join
it. You know the rest. You see that there is nothing in all this which
has any interest for your excellency."

"You mistake, monsieur; unfortunately, the regent has to reproach
himself with man