"Monsieur," she began, laying her hand on my bridle hand, but with so much unconsciousness in the act that I could no more have covered it with my right than I could have covered a man's, "you will remember how anxious I am, and how hard it is to wait? It is always worse for us women than for you. You act, you men; you work, you forget yourselves in danger, lose yourselves in the thing to be done; while we can but wait at home and hope and--yes, thank God, we can always pray. Ah, Monsieur, how I shall pray until you return!" "Was Paris waiting?" "That was once in a lifetime, and was easier than this. You will remember?" "Oh! be sure I shall remember; my fear is lest you forget." "I, Monsieur? Forget what?" "Gaspard Hellewyl; when there is no more need for him, and Gaspard Hellewyl is--elsewhere. Will you remember then, Mademoiselle Suzanne?" For the first time that morning a little pucker of a smile caught up the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lightened; nor, I remembered afterwards, did she lift her hand from where it rested, though her fingers shook; neither, let me say, was there any pressure; no, not the faintest. "Oh, Monsieur! be sure I shall remember Paris." "Mademoiselle, what do I care for Paris?" "Tours, then, and how eager you were to kill a man--only there was none to kill." "No, nor Tours either." "The Grey Leap? Ah, Monsieur! surely you do not think I can ever forget the Grey Leap?" "Not even the Grey Leap; I said Gaspard Hellewyl." The smile deepened a little. With downcast eyes and hands now clasped demurely before her, she dropped back a pace. "Now, Monsieur, it is you who forget. You forget you are a great gentleman of Flanders, the friend of the Prince de Talmont, the envoy of the King of France; you forget you are Monsieur Gaspard de Helville! the bearer of a great name--did we not agree that it was a great name? While I---- You will bring Gaston safe home to his nurse, will you not, Monsieur de Helville?"