“Superstitions?” “I take it you are a Christian,” said the Marquis calmly. The other shrank back from him. “And you?” he asked. “I follow a creed that enables me to smile at death and hell-fire,” said Luc simply. “An atheist!” murmured the stranger. “Well, _you_ are damned,” he added with a sullen satisfaction. He crossed himself again and muttered a few words of a prayer. “There are too many of you in France,” he continued, “and now I think you begin to creep into the Court.” “We speak of matters too deep, Monsieur, for our acquaintance,” answered the Marquis. “An atheist!” repeated the other. “How can God’s blessing be upon us with such corrupting France?” The grossness and superstition of this man’s slavish religion fired Luc to a sudden fine wrath. “It is such as you, Monsieur, who corrupt Court and city and nation,” he said quietly; “such as you, dulled by luxury, enervated by ease, afraid of death, afraid of life, staled by amusement and frivolity, cynical of any good in others, contemptuous of honour and glory--it is such as you who cause the people to curse the nobility--yea, even to shake them in their loyalty; it is such as you who have no right to serve the King with your weary flatteries; it is such as you who are not needed in this our splendid France.” “I--not needed?” “I speak as a soldier and plainly. I am no older than you, Monsieur, and not of your doubtless great position, but I have seen things--seen men live and die with no hope or reward save the glory of serving the King of France.” Luc’s grey eyes lost their dreaminess as he thought of the young monarch who was his lodestar. “Little can I offer His Majesty but an unstained sword; but that is more worthy of his acceptance than anything your wealth could bring.” The wonderful blue eyes darkened with a sneer. “You have a high conception of the King!” “Yes,” smiled Luc proudly. “I know what real loyalty is--no courtier can teach me. I have walked among the dying, who eased their torments by murmuring the name of King Louis. I have beheld men spurred to great achievement by the thought of him; his name is a power that you perhaps cannot conceive of. I believe with thousands that he will, in the splendid ardour of his youth, lead France to greater glories that she has yet attained. Louis the Great will be overshadowed by Louis the Well Beloved!” His thin cheek flushed with enthusiasm; he looked beyond the gorgeous pavilion to the exquisite night. “His Majesty is to be envied,” said the other coldly. Luc drew a deep breath. “To be envied! Imagine, on such a night as this, to stand beneath the heavens, young, a king--and King of France! The whole world waiting to give you her best--the power, the scope, the ardent love and devotion at your feet. Ah, Monsieur, to be such a man is to almost pass humanity.”