"Jan Meert, the Fleming, left Plessis on Monday----" "I know all that, but since then?" "Nothing. Monseigneur has not quitted the King's side all night. When I heard your voice I thought Monsieur de Helville had changed his route, and so evaded capture." "How could he?" "Second thoughts, Mademoiselle." "When he had passed his word? I see you do not know Gaspard de Helville. Do gentlemen in Plessis break their word on second thoughts? There is the letter, Monsieur, and oh, I pray you, make haste back!" CHAPTER XXXI THERE IS HOPE--TILL DAWN ON SUNDAY And so he did, and with him came Monseigneur, though not so quickly but I had time to lessen the disorder of my dress. "Go thou upstairs and wait, boy," he said curtly; then, closing the door, came forward with both hands outstretched, but in appeal rather than welcome. "Mademoiselle de Narbonne! Mademoiselle de Narbonne! What does this madness mean? Would you ruin us all?" "Monsieur de Helville--what of him? Oh, Monseigneur, what has happened?" "De Helville!" and he drew in his breath with a prolonged hiss like a man who receives a hurt. "I feared it, from the first I feared it; poor de Helville! Mademoiselle, it is no fault of mine." "Oh, Monseigneur!" I answered bitterly, for this excusing of himself before he was blamed angered me, "when were you ever at fault; you who are so clever, so cautious--of yourself! But what of Monsieur de Helville? who is too honest to be clever at court, too single of heart to think of himself. Is anything decided?" For a moment he stood looking down upon me, his hard, keen eyes piercing me through and through; never have I met a man with harder, keener, bolder eyes than Monsieur de Commines. Then a softening pity broke across his face. "Mademoiselle de Narbonne, what is de Helville to you?" said he, but with a gentleness, a commiseration, that took the offence out of the blunt question. "Everything, for I love him," I replied, trying hard not to sob. "Oh, Monseigneur! cannot you see how this waiting tears my heart to pieces?" "The King is implacable," he answered, "inexorable; there is no hope." No hope! I could not speak, I could only put a hand to my throat and fight for breath. "On Monday Jan Meert was sent to Poictiers----" "Oh, Monseigneur, I know that; come to to-day." "But," he persisted, "at least you cannot know that after nightfall yesterday Monsieur de Helville was arrested?" "I saw it done, God help me, I saw it done." "You, Mademoiselle? But it was at Poictiers!" "At Poictiers," I echoed. "And all night I rode to catch your ear first. But I failed, unhappy woman that I am, I failed." "All night?" he said, throwing his arms up. "A girl like you? Oh, poor child, poor child! We must try to save him yet." "Is there time? Ah, Monseigneur, believe me, the worst truth is the truest mercy. Is there possible time?"