Edward took the proffered hand; but he only replied, "His Eminence the cardinal said that he had made it so fast there was no power on earth or in hell to break it. But that must be determined hereafter, my lord duke. At the end of two years I will claim my wife. In the mean time, where is Monsieur de Soubise?" "Go not near him! go not near him!" said De Rohan. "By my honor, there would be bloodshed soon! He is at Blavet, I fancy, now, on his way to England; but I will write to him this night, and, if possible, you shall have his answer at Nantes. You must not expect any thing very favorable to your pretensions; but, whatever it is, it shall be sent." "My lord, if I might ask one favor, I would do it," said Edward. "It is this. From what you have yourself said, and from what others have told me, I infer that Monsieur de Soubise is of no very placable nor temperate disposition. He himself has had some share in producing both what you look upon as a misfortune and what had nearly proved the destruction of Lucette and myself, by sending--with very good intentions, doubtless, but I think very unadvisedly--letters and other matters to the very residence of the court, which betrayed our coming to his Eminence the cardinal. Had that not been done, we should in all probability have passed without question, and I should have been able to restore this dear girl to her relations as Mademoiselle de Mirepoix. As it is, my wife she is and must remain; but I would rather that she was under your care than that of the prince, for she has this evening suffered too much for an event, which she could not avoid without dooming herself and me to destruction; and I would fain that the same or perhaps more should not be inflicted upon her from another quarter. Lucette will explain to you much that I have not time to tell, for I see Madame de Lagny has risen, and it is growing so dark that I fear we must depart." "I can promise nothing," said the duke, "but that I will do my best." Thus saying, he turned toward Madame de Lagny, who by this time had some lights on the table before her, and addressed to her all those ceremonious politenesses which no one knew better how to display, when not moved by passion, than the Duc de Rohan. In the mean time, Edward and Lucette remained at the darker side of the room; but, had it been the broadest daylight, their natural feelings would have suffered little restraint. The contrast of Edward's love and tenderness with the cold harshness of her own relations made all her affections cling closer round him than ever, and she hung upon his breast and mingled kisses with his, while the tears covered her cheeks and sobs interrupted her words. "Oh, Edward," she said, "I wish to Heaven that I were indeed but the grandchild of good Clement Tournon, of Rochelle, as you once thought me! We might be very happy then."