“Of course you do not recall me,” she said, in a delicate and pleasing voice. “I am Clémence de Séguy, who saw you leave to join your regiment nine years ago--when she was in the convent school.” Luc made an effort to place and remember her; his instinctive courtesy helped him, though his thoughts had been strangely scattered by her sudden appearance. “I remember no one like you, Mademoiselle,” he said, “in all Provence; but your name is known to me as that of one of my father’s friends.” She laughed as if pleased. “Tell me about the war,” she answered. As he looked at her he seemed to see the powerful face, slender figure, and gorgeous garments of the Countess Carola standing beside her in absolute contrast. The two could not have been more different; the reality before Luc’s eyes was not so strong as the inner vision. He put his hand to the fragrant letter in his pocket. The Marquis entered and presented him with pretty ceremony. As Luc kissed the girl’s fingers he thought of another hand that he would soon salute in Paris--Paris. CHAPTER IX THE HERETIC The answer from M. de Biron contained flat discouragement. In his words seemed to lurk a smile at the simplicity of Luc: there were no places at Court or even in obscure corners of France that were not already allotted, long before they were vacant, to those who were friends of pensioners of the Court favourites and the Ministers. It was absurd to hope that anyone with no recommendation above his talents could obtain even a clerk’s place in the Government, added M. de Biron, and he advised Luc to spare himself the fatigue and humiliation of further applications, and suggested that he should abandon ideas that were certain to end in disappointment. The letter was meant kindly, but it brought a flush of anger to Luc’s cheek; then he laughed, and with the laugh his old serenity returned. M. de Biron should not block his way; there were other channels. He did not show the letter to his father, but merely told him that his former Colonel could be no help. The Marquis said nothing, but a few days later produced, with much pride, a letter from M. de Caumont to M. de Richelieu, Governor of Languedoc, asking for his interest for Luc, who was touched and moved by his father’s thought. Yet he was not altogether pleased. He had heard enough of M. de Richelieu from Hippolyte, M. de Caumont’s son, who had never spoken of him with anything but dislike, and he knew the Governor’s reputation as the most famous man of fashion of the moment and a hard persecutor of the Protestants in Languedoc.