f the Princess Gabrielle. And this time their
eyes met. There were those who saw a glint of terror--of delicious
terror--in the eyes of the princess; and in the eyes of Gaspard a look
intended to be reassuring.

Then the smith had unfolded his arms, thrust them forward.

"Wait," he cried.

At that there was a fresh sensation.

For it was seen that one of his wrists--his left--was already encircled
by a bracelet of shining steel, forged there of a single piece, and that
to the bracelet itself there was forged a link, fine but powerful, and
that other links ran back over his shoulder.

"Ha!" snarled the duke. "So you've come prepared!"

"By the grace of God!" replied Gaspard the smith, unafraid. He cast a
look about him, brought his eyes back to the duke. "_Moi_, Gaspard," he
said, "I forge my own chains--always! I'm a smith, I am."

The two old people kneeling just back of him began to sob and to groan.
Gaspard turned and looked down at them.

"Shut up," he ordered; "I'm talking."

He smiled at the duke. He explained.

"You see, they're frightened," he said. "When I found out what your
highness and your highness's lady-granddaughter were planning up here
in the castle, why, I went to these old folks and told them that I
wanted their daughter Susette."

"I suppose you loved her," the duke put in with ironical intent.

But the smith saw no reason for irony.

"Eh, _bon Dieu_!" he ejaculated. "And save your highness's respect,
we've loved each other ever since we were out of the cradle, we have. So
I made the old folks consent. I'm a smith, I am. I forge my own chains.
Stand around, Susette! His highness won't hurt you. Look!"

He stepped aside. He gave a gentle thrust to the girl who had been
sheltering back of him. The chain rattled.

And there was another cry of surprise.

One of the girl's wrist's also was ornamented with a steel handcuff
tightly welded. Not only that, but to this also was attached a chain.
The smith threw up his arm. It was the same chain that was welded to his
own handcuff--ten feet of it, glistening steel, unbreakable.

"There's your ten-foot chain, highness," cried Gaspard. "And it's no
trick-chain, either," he added. "It's a chain that will hold. You bet
it will. I forged it myself, and I know. It's a chain you couldn't buy.
Why? Because--because the iron of it's mixed with love. Nor can it be
cut, nor filed, nor broken. I'm a smith, I am. And each link of it I
tempered myself--