"I am no Jacques Clément to stab and be massacred. You cannot buy such a service of me, M. de Mayenne. If I do bravo's work for you I choose my own time and way. I brought the duke to Paris, delivered him up to you to deal with as it liked you. But you with your army at your back were afraid to kill him. You flinched and waited. You dared not shoulder the onus of his death. Then I, to help you out of your strait, planned to make his own son's the hand that should do the deed; to kill the duke and ruin his heir; to put not only St. Quentin but Mar out of your way--" "Let us be accurate, Paul," Mayenne said. "Mar was not in my way; he was of no consequence to me. You mean, put him out of your way." "He was in your way, too. Since he would not join the Cause he was a hindrance to it. You had as much to gain as I by his ruin." "Something--not as much. I did not want him killed--I preferred him to Valère." "Nor did I want him killed; so our views jibed well." "Why not, then? Did you prefer him as your wife's lover to some other who might appear?" "I do not intend that my wife shall have lovers," Lucas answered. Mayenne broke into laughter. "Nom d'un chien, where will you keep her? In the Bastille? Lorance and no lovers! Ho, ho!" "I mean none whom she favours." "Then why do you leave Mar alive? She adores the fellow," Mayenne said. I had no idea whether he really thought it or only said it to annoy Lucas. At any rate it had its effect. Lucas's brows were knotted; he spoke with an effort, like a man under stress of physical pain. "I know she loves him now, and she would love him dead; but she would not love him a parricide." "Is that your creed? Pardieu! you don't know women. The blacker the villain the more they adore him." "I know it is true, monsieur," Lucas said smoothly, "that you have had successes." Mayenne started forward with half an oath, changing to a laugh. "So it is not enough for you to possess the fair body of Lorance; you must also have her love?" "She will love me," Lucas answered uneasily. "She must." "It is not worth your fret," Mayenne declared. "If she did, how long would it last? _Souvent femme varie_--that is the only fixed fact about her. If Lorance loves Mar to-day, she will love some one else to-morrow, and some one else still the day after to-morrow. It is not worth while disturbing yourself about it." "She will not love any one else," Lucas said hoarsely. Mayenne laughed. "You are very young, Paul." "She shall not love any one else! By the throne of heaven, she shall not!" Mayenne went on laughing. If Lucas had for the moment teased him out of his equanimity, the duke had paid back the score a hundredfold. Lucas's face was seared with his passions as with the torture-iron; he clinched his hands together, breathing hard. On my side of the door I heard a sharp little sound in the darkness; mademoiselle had gritted her teeth.