r," he broke in. "Listen!
There is M. le Chevalier."

In reality I could hear the old knight's voice, loud and shrill with
anger, and a moment later Louis, his intendant, came across the hall.

"Guilbert," he commanded harshly, "close the door. The night air is
keen."

My cheeks aflame with anger, I still made one last attempt to gain an
audience.

"Master Louis," I exclaimed, "will you do me the favour to tell M. de
Canaples--"

"You are wasting time, Monsieur," he interrupted. "M. de Canaples will
not see you. He bids you close the door, Guilbert."

"Pardieu! he shall see me!"

"The door, Guilbert!"

I took a step forward, but before I could gain the threshold, the door
was slammed in my face, and as I stood there, quivering with anger and
disappointment, I heard the bolts being shot within.

I turned with an oath.

"Come, Abdon," I growled, as I climbed once more into the saddle, "let
us leave the fool to the fate he has chosen."

CHAPTER XXIII. OF HOW ST. AUBAN CAME TO BLOIS

In silence we rode back to Blois. Not that I lacked matter for
conversation. Anger and chagrin at the thought that I had come upon this
journey to earn naught but an insult and to have a door slammed in my
face made my gorge rise until it went near to choking me. I burned to
revile Canaples aloud, but Abdon's was not the ear into which I might
pour the hot words that welled up to my lips.

Yet if silent, the curses that I heaped upon the Chevalier's crassness
were none the less fervent, and to myself I thought with grim relish of
how soon and how dearly he would pay for the affront he had put upon me.

That satisfaction, however, endured not long; for presently I bethought
me of how heavily the punishment would fall upon Yvonne--and yet, of how
she would be left to the mercy of St. Auban, whose warrant from Mazarin
would invest with almost any and every power at Canaples.

I ground my teeth at the sudden thought, and for a moment I was on the
point of going back and forcing my way into the chateau at the sword
point if necessary, to warn and save the Chevalier in spite of himself
and unthanked.

It was not in such a fashion that I had thought to see my mission to
Canaples accomplished; I had dreamt of gratitude, and gratitude unbars
the door to much. Nevertheless, whether or not I earned it, I must
return, and succeed where for want of insistence I had failed awhile
ago.

Of a certainty I should have acted thus, b