“Aye, the Lucette whom the officer at the gate recognized.” She understood him then. “You don’t think----?” she said eagerly. “What I don’t think is not of much account. But I do think that any man who has once been under fire from your dark eyes would not readily forget them. He had not forgotten them, and they set him thinking too.” “Oh, how cruel you are! To blame me in this way.” “Blame you? It is the fortune of things. But if you think there’s a lesson in the thing, that good fellow of yours, Denys St. Jean, mightn’t be sorry if you learnt it. A thing of that sort is pretty much like a forest fire: you can start it easily, but you never know what may be burnt or how far it may spread before it’s put out.” “I ought to be grateful to you for first frightening and then lecturing me at a time like this,” cried Lucette angrily. “My punishment to you would be to sentence you to stop it for the future. That’s all. And now I’ve said my say,” he answered; and then, with a reassuring laugh, added: “As for this, it will be nothing. Have no fear. We may have a farce of a trial and a sentence after this Tiger’s manner; but before he can do anything, the tables will be turned on him, and he is not unlikely to find himself where we are. Have no fear, and don’t be surprised at anything that happens.” Lucette was silent for a while, her manner a mixture of vexation and regret. “Shall I say I have learnt my lesson, monsieur?” she asked with a look half mocking, half serious. “Your words have hurt me.” “I fear you’ve but a poor memory for lessons, Lucette.” “Ah, you are unendurable! I don’t like this lecturer’s mood of yours.” “Then it’s fortunate I don’t wear it often. You are too brave and true a girl at heart, Lucette,” he said earnestly, “not to make your good will worth having for any man. And now I’ll be serious no more.” But Lucette looked serious then, and twice turned to him as if to say something; although in the end she shrugged her shoulders and remained silent. “Something is going to happen now,” said Pascal after a minute, as a number of the Governor’s suite entered and ranged themselves near the daïs. Both were watching them when Lucette cried suddenly-- “There is Gabrielle. Oh, how sad and pale she looks!” “She takes it all very seriously,” replied Pascal; and pushing through the prisoners, he forced a way for Lucette and himself to the front. Gabrielle saw, and hurried to speak to them, when one of the guards stopped her. “You cannot speak to the prisoners, mademoiselle,” he said. “Nonsense, fellow,” exclaimed Pascal angrily. “Silence, prisoner.” [Illustration: GERARD BORE HIMSELF WITH GREAT DIGNITY] “Not at your command, I promise you;” but Gabrielle making a hasty gesture to them, fell back, and at the moment there came a blast of trumpets heralding the approach, as they thought, of the Governor.