name of Monsieur de Bellegarde, my affianced husband, my father being absent.” “Fair lady,” said the Spaniard, breaking silence for the first time, and speaking in excellent French, “I never before rejoiced so much in being able to understand the French tongue as spoken by your dulcet voice; this is the happiest moment of my life, for it has introduced me to the fairest of your sex. I repeat it deliberately--the fairest of your sex;” and he looked significantly at Bellegarde. “I accept your invitation, readily. Were I fortunate enough to be your prisoner instead of the Captain’s, my ransom would never be paid, I warrant.” “_Cap de Dieu!_” exclaimed Chicot, grinning from ear to ear, “the Spanish Dons well merit their reputation for gallantry, but our friend here, Don Juan, outdoes them all, and, indeed, every one of his nation.” “Madame,” broke in the Spaniard, very red in the face and speaking with great vehemence, not appearing to hear this remark, and still addressing Gabrielle, on whom his eyes were riveted, “I declare if any one, be he noble or villein, knight or king, dare to say that any woman under God’s sun surpasses you in beauty or grace, I declare him to be false and disloyal, and with fitting opportunity I will prove, in more than words, that he lies to the teeth.” “Come, come, my good friend,” interrupted Bellegarde, much discomposed, “do not, I beseech you, go into these heroics; you will alarm this lady. If you heat yourself in this way, the night air will give you cold. Besides, remember, Señor, this lady, Mademoiselle d’Estrées, is my affianced bride, and that certain conditions were made between us before I introduced you, which conditions you swore to observe”; and Bellegarde looked reproachfully at him. Don Juan felt the implied reproof, and, for the first time since he had entered, moved his eyes to some other object than the smiling face of Gabrielle. Her sisters now joined them. Although they much resembled her, and would have been comely in any other company, Gabrielle so far exceeded them as to throw them altogether into the shade. They were both immediately saluted with nearly equal warmth by the Spanish Don, who evidently would not reform his manners in this particular. Like Gabrielle, they were quite abashed and retreated to the farther side of the room. “Let me tell you, ladies,” said Chicot, advancing towards them, “if you were to see our friend, Don Juan, in a justaucorps of satin and glittering with gold and precious stones, with a white panache in his velvet cap, you would not think he looked so much amiss. But are you going to give us nothing to eat? What has the Don done that he is to be starved? Though he be a Spaniard, and serves against Henry of Navarre, he is a Christian, and has a stomach like any other.”