“I beg you, my lord, urge me no more. I have arranged the matters on which we spoke. The mercenaries who were in the late Governor’s troops have for the most part been enrolled in the companies that march to-morrow, and so many of the Bourbon men as you desired have taken their places. But your force will be chiefly Morvaix men--a sort of citizens’ army; and to command such a force is no more to my liking than it is fitted to my powers. I should but cause you infinite trouble by being constantly at loggerheads with your burghers.” “You take them too seriously, captain. They are worthy men,” said Gabrielle. “As men most worthy, doubtless, mademoiselle; as talkers, unsurpassed in France, I think; but I am a plain soldier.” “I should like details of your arrangements now they are completed, Dubois. Come into the house and give them to me. Denys may well assist at the conference, for he will now be high in my esteem and confidence. Come, Denys--if Lucette will spare you to me.” Denys flushed with pleasure, and Lucette smiled. “What a wonderful change in everything, Gabrielle,” she exclaimed when the three men had left them. “How happy you look. And what a little cheat you were.” “I? When?” “Innocent! Why the day after M. Gerard met you in the market place. When you said that if for a moment you had swerved from thoughts of duty, a night’s reflection had sobered you. Sobered you! Intoxicated you, you should have said.” “I did not know that Gerard was----” Lucette broke in with a merry laugh, and Gabrielle blushed. “Was Gerard de Cobalt? Nor was he. But do you remember my words, when you were such a philosopher about the plagues of love? I told you you would learn to know it all some day. Oh, Gabrielle, what a lecture I might read you now! You cannot find him near you without a dozen tremors and a fleeting tide of colour in your face and light in your eyes; and when he is not by your side, how restless is Gabrielle, with glances here and glances there, listening for his footstep or his voice, and impatience, oh, such impatience, at all that keeps him from you.” “If I plead guilty, has the court no mercy for me?” “My dearest, I love you for it. But I told you how it would be; and God knows neither you nor I would have it otherwise. Ah, here is M. Pascal,” she said as he came round the house. “Mademoiselle, I have hastened from the city to crave your pardon,” he said to Gabrielle. “You are already assured of it, monsieur, for I know the offence will be but a trifle.” “You must not trust all men, Gabrielle,” put in Lucette briskly. “Yet unwittingly I may have offended. It was I who instigated the baiting of M. de Proballe and the scurvy knave he calls his secretary. I knew when he would leave, and set on Babillon to frighten him. I have heard it was against your wish, and would not have you blame your citizens for the act of a rough Bourbon soldier.”