“If I am not Gerard de Cobalt, monsieur,” cried Gerard, sternly, “you will still find I am a man who does not take insults lightly. For your past words I forgive you, because of your natural irritation at this discovery. But for your future words and conduct I shall hold you responsible--every word and every act.” “You will of course explain your conduct, monsieur, and state as frankly as you can who you are and your purpose in my city. See to it that the explanation be as satisfactory as your present position is equivocal.” The Governor’s tone was curt and peremptory. “The explanation is due to Mademoiselle de Malincourt, and I promise you it shall be frank enough in some respects to satisfy even you. I had a sufficient object in coming to Morvaix--what that is for the present I withhold--and to accomplish it I took a name not my own. I borrowed it at hazard from a notorious dicer and wastrel of Paris--Raouf de Cobalt.” “But you called yourself Gerard de Cobalt,” said the Duke. “In ignorance that he had a relative of that name--an even worse scoundrel, it would seem, than himself--whom you and M. de Proballe designed to use for your schemes.” “Do you think to carry off this imposture with insolence?” demanded the Duke angrily. “It is not insolence. I have no cause to hide the truth, monsieur. I had been in Morvaix but a few hours when I was a witness of the scene in the market place, and we met for the first time, mademoiselle. I inquired concerning you, and learning that you were the Gabrielle de Malincourt whose praises were on all men’s lips, I haunted the gardens of the maison in the hope of seeing you again. There we met, yesterday, for the second time--and you may remember my passing confusion when you questioned me as to the reasons for what seemed such strange conduct in a man you believed to be your cousin and for whose coming you were prepared.” “You did not tell me all, monsieur,” said Gabrielle. “You shall know why. I was on the point of doing so when M. de Proballe interrupted us, and carrying me away, told me enough to disclose to me the peril which threatened you.” “Yes, yes, we know all about that,” interposed de Proballe hastily. “Mademoiselle de Malincourt does not. You read the letter yesterday of which your follower Denys had in some way possessed himself, mademoiselle, and I need only say that that contained in essence the story of this de Cobalt which M. de Proballe told me at length, adding that my marriage with you was to be no more or less than a cover for your ruin at the hands of the Duke de Rochelle.” “It is a lie,” cried the Governor furiously. “Then blame the liar, M. le Duc. There he stands,” and Gerard pointed at de Proballe. “It is a tissue of lies,” said de Proballe. “You know me too well, Gabrielle, to believe this vile slander.” “There you mistake. It is I, not Mademoiselle de Malincourt, who know you. I know M. de Proballe’s life and reputation in Paris.”