“Bellegarde shall never have it, I promise you. Tell him that, like Penelope, you undid in the night what you worked in the day. Come, come, now, Gabrielle, confess you are not in reality so much attached to Bellegarde as you pretend, and that if I can prove to you he is unworthy of your love and inconstant into the bargain, you will promise to give me his place in your heart. Besides, his position is unworthy of your beauty; there is but one ornament worthy of that snowy brow--Bellegarde cannot place it there; but I know another able and willing, when the cursed League is dispersed, to give that finishing touch to your loveliness.” “Sire,” replied she, “I must not listen to what you say. I cannot believe anything against Bellegarde; I have known him all my life, and he has never deceived me. Nothing but the most positive evidence shall convince me that he is false.” “How now? _Saints et Saintes!_ you doubt my word--the word of a king! But, Gabrielle, I can give you proofs, be assured.” “Oh, Sire, it is not for me to talk of proofs or to reproach him. Poor Bellegarde! my heart bleeds when I think of him.” Her head fell upon her bosom; again the tears gathered in her eyes. Then she looked up, and becoming aware all at once that it had grown quite dusk, she forgot every other feeling in fear for the King’s safety. “Sire, go away, I implore you, return to your quarters as fast as your horse can carry you. If I have been cold, remember what you are risking--your life and my good name! for you will be seen by some one.” “Gabrielle, do you drive me away thus, when to leave you costs me such a pang! Heaven knows when this war will allow us again to meet! I never know from day to day but that some rebel of a Leaguer may finish me by a stray shot; much less do I know where or how I may be. The present is all I have--let me enjoy it.” “Ah, Sire! only put down that atrocious League, and we will meet when you please. I shall offer up no end of prayers that it may be so.” “Whatever comes out of those ruby lips will not fail of being heard; as to your slave Henry, the very knowledge that such a divinity stoops to interest herself in his fate will serve as a talisman to shield him from every danger.” “Your Majesty speaks like a poet,” and a soft laugh was heard out of the darkness. “Now adieu, Sire! I wish you a safe journey wherever you go, and may you prevail against your foes. When you see Monsieur de Bellegarde, assure him of my love.” “Ungrateful Gabrielle! thus to trifle with me. But I have proofs, _vrai Dieu_! I have proofs that shall cure you of that attachment.” “Sire, why should you seek to make me unhappy? You know that for years I have been engaged to Bellegarde, and that I look forward to my marriage with the utmost delight. Why, then, endeavour to separate us?”