“You shall not lack the chance, I promise you. One other condition for your life I make. Before you leave the city you will return the paper sent to you from me by M. de Proballe. For the rest, look to yourself; for as I live, it will need all your wits and more than all your effrontery to save you from my hands.” With that he turned his back on Gerard, saying to de Proballe that he would speak again to Gabrielle before leaving Malincourt. They walked away together, and Gerard turned and paced the terrace in busy thought. One thing chiefly perplexed him--why the Duke had shewn this change of front and now wished to drive him from Morvaix instead of seconding the scheme for the marriage. It did not occur to him to set it down to the true cause--jealousy; and he racked his wits vainly to find a solution. The only reason that suggested itself to him was one that strengthened his resolve to stay--that the Duke’s object was to rob Gabrielle of even the slender protection which his presence afforded. If that were so, it followed that there was some fresh scheme on foot to do Gabrielle immediate hurt; and in that view no consideration whatever should induce him to leave. But in such a case, why had not the Governor taken the simpler course of handing him over to his soldiers at once? In seeking the answer to that question Gerard came much nearer the truth. If he were to run away, his flight would be tantamount to a confession that these charges against himself were true; and Gabrielle would be led to hold him for the villain which the real de Cobalt unquestionably was. He would be seen to have pledged his honour to her, only to break it in a cowardly flight. Had the villainous de Cobalt stood in his place, he would no doubt have gladly welcomed the chance of saving his life at the sacrifice of his honour and of Gabrielle; and the Duke had acted on that supposition. Nothing should induce him to fall into the snare thus spread for him; but at the same time he felt that he must take measures for self-preservation. This Tiger in his passion was capable of going to any lengths; and means must be at hand to restrain him. He was still pondering this when Gabrielle came out from her interview with the Duke. Her bright looks had given place to a troubled expression, and she was very pale. “The Governor is like a madman in his wrath against you, Gerard,” she said. “I have never seen him so moved. Both he and my uncle are now as furious at the thought of our marriage as before they--or at least my uncle--was eager to promote it.” “And you, Gabrielle?” “I know not how to act or what to say,” she replied with a sigh of despair. “The tension of this morning’s scene has tried you,” he said gently. “But you do not believe I am the dastard----” “Gerard! No. I cannot. Every prompting of my heart bids me trust you. I think I would trust you if all the world bore witness against you. But there must surely be some explanation of so great a mystery.”