ave you
hanged out of this window before sunrise. I shall only proceed to such
an extremity with the greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is
not at all your death that I desire, but my niece's establishment in
life. At the same time, it must come to that if you prove obstinate.
Your family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you
sprang from Charlemagne, you should not refuse the hand of a Maletroit
with impunity--not if she had been as common as the Pairs road--not if
she were so hideous as the gargoyle over my door. Neither my niece nor
you nor my own private feelings, move me at all in this matter. The
honor of my house has been compromised; I believe you to be the guilty
person; at least you are now in the secret; and you can hardly wonder
if I request you to wipe out the stain. If you will not, your blood be
on your own head! It will be no great satisfaction to me to have your
interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze below my windows;
but half a loaf is better than no bread, and if I cannot cure the
dishonor, I shall at least stop the scandal."

There was a pause.

"I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among
gentlemen," said Denis. "You wear a sword, and I hear you have used it
with distinction."

The Sire de Maletroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed the
room with long silent strides and raised the arras over the third of
the three doors. It was only a moment before he let it fall again; but
Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed men.

"When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to honor
you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said Sire Alain; "but I am now too old.
Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must employ the
strength I have. This is one of the hardest things to swallow as a man
grows up in years; but with a little patience, even this becomes
habitual. You and the lady seem to prefer the salle for what remains
of your two hours; and as I have no desire to cross your preference, I
shall resign it to your use with all the pleasure in the world. No
haste!" he added, holding up his hand, as he saw a dangerous look come
into Denis de Beaulieu's face. "If your mind revolts against hanging,
it will be time enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the
window or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life are always
two hours. A great many things may turn up in even as little a while
as