“Good, Gerard! Splendidly played. Did you mark that, my lord?” whispered de Proballe, intensely relieved at Denys’ collapse. “What an actor the villain is, Duke? Said I not he was but acting with Gabrielle? You could swear that tone of his was a note of honourable innocence.” But the Duke made no reply. He was staring with pent gloomy brows at the scene. “You bear him no grudge for this, Gerard?” said Gabrielle with a smile of confidence. “Should I feel enmity to one whose only motive was desire to serve you and who has drawn this further proof of your trust in me? He did and said no more than he deemed both right and true. I honour him for his courage.” “Then I will tear the letter that appears to have cheated his fevered wits, and so end the matter;” and picking up the paper she was about to tear it when he stopped her. “Fool! Idiot! Now indeed he goes too far;” muttered de Proballe, as he saw the gesture. “Let her tear it.” Gerard had the strongest reasons for not having the letter destroyed, however. It was the proof he needed to make de Proballe’s guilt clear. “I should not destroy it, Gabrielle. There must be much behind this which we do not yet understand; and if it is to be cleared, this letter may be needed.” “’Tis but the delusion born of fever madness.” “Men do not forge letters in delirium,” answered Gerard quietly. “You would not have me read it!” Gabrielle’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “What will the fool do next?” murmured de Proballe, in deep agitation. “Is he aiming this at me?” Gerard paused a moment to think, and then answered calmly and firmly. “Yes, I would have you read it.” “But it is designed to slander you.” “I am too sure of your trust to fear any slander, Gabrielle. I would have you read it, whatever it be.” “By the Cross! he plays a bold hand,” muttered the Duke, drawing his breath. “What is in the letter?” “It will ruin everything,” whispered de Proballe. “Then do I not understand him. He must indeed be sure of her, as he says;” and his frown grew deeper than before. Gabrielle stood fingering the letter in hesitation some moments and then unfolded it. “I will do your bidding, Gerard, although I had rather not.” She read it then. “TO M. LE BARON DE PROBALLE,-- “The messenger has brought me your last communication and the sum of money I asked for. My doubts are almost satisfied. I have some troublesome matters to arrange, and some little time must pass before they can be settled. But you can count upon my reaching Malincourt by the end of June or the first days of July, if in response to this you send me a declaration under the Duke de Rochelle’s own hand that I shall receive his pardon for the affair at Cambrai. You must procure this; as without it I shall not trust myself within his province.