"I have decided to forgive thee on two conditions," he went on presently. "And they, Your Majesty?" "The first is that thou wilt tell me where this sister of thine is. The second will, I trust, be pleasing to thee, for surely the king's smile, and the king's companionship should----" "Pardon me, Your Majesty," cried Constance, "but there is no need to speak of the second condition since I will never accept the first." "You will not tell me where your sister is?" "No, Your Majesty." The king laughed. "I must e'en find out without your telling," he said. "You never can;" and there was defiance in her voice. "Ah!" I noted the anger in his voice, and I forgot that I was listening to conversation which the king never intended should reach my ears, so eager was I to know what would follow. "It is said that I am of an easy temper," he went on presently, "and it is hard to be angry in the presence of one so fair. Yet must the king be obeyed. So be sure of this, pretty Constance. I will e'en find the whereabouts of your sister. As for your father, he is already under arrest, and it will depend on you as to whether he goes to the gallows with the rest of my father's murderers, or whether he hold his head high in the state." "On me, Your Majesty?" "Ay, on you, pretty Constance." And then he said words which I will not write down, so base were they. "Of this be assured," he went on, and it was easy to see that wine had unloosed his tongue, and driven away his judgement. "I will give no quarter to these canting Puritans. Neither for that matter will I bestow any favour upon these Presbyterians. I will have only such religion in my realm as I please. Not that I am much wedded to religion at all, especially that of the stern and strict nature. But this I know, it is to the Episcopals that I owe my crown, and it was they who fought for my father during the rebellion. Depend upon it, therefore, I will make short shrift of these hot-gospellers, and I will see to it that only those who are loyal to the crown shall be tolerated." "Then Your Majesty's promises will go for nothing!" And there was a sting of scorn in Constance's tones, as well as in her words. The king laughed. "A man makes reservations even in his promises," he said, "and think not that I am going to allow my father's murderers to go around stirring up dissension, or hot-gospellers to preach rebellion. Nay, you will soon see. The Puritans had no mercy, and _Grand Dieu_ neither will I!" At this there was silence. "So, fair Constance, I beseech you for your own sake to--to be obedient to my wishes, and----" "Will Your Majesty be pleased to forgive me," cried Constance. "It ill becomes me to boast, but I am not afraid of death, and so I beseech Your Majesty to mete out my punishment without delay." "You mean that----" "It would be better for me to die than that my father's child should turn traitor or coward."