hair, setting off with
its rich tint the little shell-like ears and the alabaster whiteness of
the neck and throat, even Conde, who had seen all the beauties of three
courts and of sixty years defile before him, stood staring in admiration
at the Huguenot maiden.

"Heh! On my word, mademoiselle, you make me wish that I could wipe forty
years from my account." He bowed, and sighed in the fashion that was in
vogue when Buckingham came to the wooing of Anne of Austria, and the
dynasty of cardinals was at its height.

"France could ill spare those forty years, your Highness."

"Heh, heh! So quick of tongue too? Your daughter has a courtly wit,
monsieur."

"God forbid, your Highness! She is as pure and good--"

"Nay, that is but a sorry compliment to the court. Surely,
mademoiselle, you would love to go out into the great world, to hear
sweet music, see all that is lovely, and wear all that is costly, rather
than look out ever upon the Rue St. Martin, and bide in this great dark
house until the roses wither upon your cheeks."

"Where my father is, I am happy at his side," said she, putting her two
hands upon his sleeve. "I ask nothing more than I have got."

"And I think it best that you go up to your room again," said the old
merchant shortly, for the prince, in spite of his age, bore an evil name
among women. He had come close to her as he spoke, and had even placed
one yellow hand upon her shrinking arm, while his little dark eyes
twinkled with an ominous light.

"Tut, tut!" said he, as she hastened to obey. "You need not fear for
your little dove. This hawk, at least, is far past the stoop, however
tempting the quarry. But indeed, I can see that she is as good as she
is fair, and one could not say more than that if she were from heaven
direct. My carriage waits, gentlemen, and I wish you all a very good
day!" He inclined his be-wigged head, and strutted off in his dainty,
dandified fashion. From the window De Catinat could see him slip into
the same gilded chariot which had stood in his way as he drove from
Versailles.

"By my faith," said he, turning to the young American, "we all owe
thanks to the prince, but it seems to me, sir, that we are your debtors
even more. You have risked your life for my cousin, and but for your
cudgel, Dalbert would have had his blade through me when he had me at a
vantage. Your hand, sir! These are things which a man cannot forget."

"Ay, you may well thank him, Amo