Less than a hundred yards from the chamber of Monsieur de Liancourt, Louis de Montigni sat after the priest left him, with his arms folded on his chest, his head bent down, and his eyes fixed upon the ground. He thought bitterly over much that had passed. The words which Walter de la Tremblade had spoken concerning the heart of woman, still rung in his ears; the probable causes of the peculiarities he had remarked in the conduct of Rose d'Albret, still agitated his mind; and he asked himself "Can she really love him? She who was clear-sighted, as well as frank, thoughtful as well as gay, generous, kind, liberal, can she love this man, who from youth till now has shown himself the same selfish, bold, confident, cunning, and presuming being? She used to see through him, and understand him when he came here as a youth, but a few years older than myself. It may be so, and perhaps the priest is right. If so, it were as well to renounce all without further hesitation, not to let her or any one perceive the hopes that are to be disappointed, the vain expectations that are to vanish at a breath, nor to call down that pity which is always more or less mingled with contempt, nor excite the scornful merriment of the winner in this perilous game. No, that I will not do; and yet this is a hard and a bitter act to require of me, which may well justify some doubt and some delay. Hark! there is my uncle's foot, I shall now hear more. The good old man has all his eyes open, where my interests and happiness are concerned. From him I shall hear the pure truth, undisguised and plain. I almost doubt that priest: yet he spoke fairly and candidly too; but these men of the gown, dependent on great families, however virtuous and right may be their inclinations, gain a bias towards the views of their patrons, which often blinds their eyes to the plain course of justice." Such were the thoughts of the young Baron de Montigni, till at length the old soldier Estoc threw open the door, and the commander limped into the room. "Now lock the door, Estoc!" cried the good knight, seating himself in the chair which his nephew placed carefully for him; "lock the door, we will have no more interruptions. I have a right to have my say too, Louis. _Ventre saint gris_, to use the language of the Philistines, we will have it out now, Louis." "Most assuredly, Sir," replied the young nobleman; "I will suffer no one to interrupt us. My uncle, the count, as once my guardian and my eldest relative, might of course command my first attention; but now that is over, you, my dear uncle, have the next claim upon me, and I will not allow anyone to deprive me of the pleasure or the benefit of hearing your conversation and advice."