"But you will not!" he said steadily. "Your Ladyship, for her own sake, should not force the alternative." "Alternative?" "Why speak of it?" "What is the alternative?" she demanded. "If your Ladyship refuses to promise, it will be necessary for the man to return alone." "You mean," in spite of herself, she gave a start, "you would make me--a prisoner?" "It should not be necessary." "But you would not dare!" indignantly. "Not dare! Your Ladyship forgets--" "True!" with a scornful glance. After a pause: "But suppose I _did_ promise? Are you not reposing a good deal of confidence in me?" "Not too much!" "I presume," disdainfully, "I should feel flattered in being trusted by--" She did not finish the sentence. But the young man apparently had not heard. "I'll take the chance on your own words," he added unexpectedly. "My words?" "That you are no telltale." The girl started. "Telltale?" she repeated. "You once told me you were not!" "I--told you!" She stared at him. "Told me you were no telltale," he repeated. "And--when Beppo lied, you told the truth--about a ragged vagabond of a boy." "Beppo!" The look in her eyes deepened; cleared. "I remember now," she said slowly. "You were the boy with the fish, who said he lived in the woods. I met you while riding, and again that night, as a child, leaving for Paris; but I did not know, then, you would become--" The young man's face changed. "An outlaw!" he said coolly. "Yes; an outlaw," she repeated firmly. Angered by his unflinching gaze, she went on: "Who dares not fly the flag of his king! Who dares not come openly into any honest port!" She ended, her brown eyes flashing. His own darkened; but he only remarked coldly; "My Lady, at any rate, dares much!" "Oh, I've no doubt you don't care to hear--" "From you!" He looked at her oddly, from the golden hair to the small, dainty foot. "From your Ladyship!" he repeated, as if amused. An instant he regarded her silently, intently; but his voice when at length he again spoke was cool and slightly mocking: "My Lady speaks, of course, from the standpoint of her own world--a very pretty world! A park of _plaisance_, wherein, I can vouch for it, my Lady dances very prettily." She started; a flush of resentment glowed and faded on her cheek; a question his words suggested trembled on her lips. "Why did you come to the beach that night of the dance? How dared you, knowing that if--" "Why?" His eyes lost their ironical light. "Why?" he repeated; then laughed with sudden recklessness. "I wished to see your Ladyship." "Me?" She shrank back.