“My dear comrade, there are other relationships between a young man and a handsome woman than the ties of kinship. But those days are long past, and I should never have recalled them had it not been that you two have been travelling about the country together, I make no doubt, with an innocence that recalls the sylvan days of yore.” Armstrong pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Sir, the lady took her brother’s place, he being unexpectedly and grievously wounded. My position has been that of true comrade to her.” “That is precisely what I have said. I said your journey was one of Arcadian innocence.” “Those were your words, but your tone bears a meaning I resent.” “You are quite in error. I will say no more about her.” “You have already said too much or too little. Tell me in plain words what this relationship was to which you have referred.” “First answer me a question. Are you betrothed to Frances Wentworth?” “No. I told you I acted the brother’s part toward her in this journey.” “Oh, we all say that; but I am not in the least curious. If you intended to marry her, then were my mouth sealed. Very well; since you will have it, and I take your word as a gentleman pledged that you will say nothing to the girl of this until you are clear of Oxford, know that I was once her betrothed. She was to have been my wife, and would have been my wife to-day had her father not fallen.” “Your wife!” “Yes. Her father gave me permission to pay my court to her. She could not have been much more than sixteen then, and I was her first lover, a personage that a girl never forgets. At first she was frightened, but that stage did not last long. Her father’s ruin changed my plans, and I refused to marry her. I announced this refusal to her in the seclusion of my own room in Whitehall and----” “Sir, you lie!” Armstrong’s sword seemed to spring of its own will from the scabbard, and his hand drew it a-swish through the air with the hiss of a deadly serpent. The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders, but did not move. The three words of his opponent had been spoken very quietly, despite his impulsive action. De Courcy did not raise his voice as he asked: “Which of my statements do you question?” “No matter for that. We fight on this phrase in Scotland. No man ever called me liar and lived.” “’T is a coarse phrase, I admit, and did I not represent my King--were I as free as you--you should have had my response in steel ere this. But I cannot wreck the King in a private quarrel of my own. Whether you killed me, or I you, ’t would be equally disastrous to his Majesty.” “I care nothing for the King. Draw, you poltroon, or I shall kill you where you sit.”