"I agree with you there," said Monsieur de Guise. "But, my dear friend, how will you do it?" "Let me keep my secret, I implore you, Monseigneur," said Gabriel. "If you knew my extraordinary design, you might perhaps try to dissuade me from it. But it is no longer time to reflect and hesitate. Moreover, in all this I neither compromise the army nor yourself. These men here, the only ones whom I propose to employ, are all my own volunteers, and you agreed to leave me free to do as I would with them. I propose to accomplish my purpose unaided, or to die in the attempt." "But why this pride?" asked the duke. "It is not pride, Monseigneur; but I wish to requite as well as I can the priceless favor which you were good enough to promise me at Paris, and which I trust you remember." "What priceless favor are you talking about, Gabriel?" said the duke. "I am supposed to have a good memory, especially where my friends are concerned; but I am ashamed to confess that in this instance I do not remember." "Alas! Monseigneur," Gabriel rejoined, "it is a very important matter for me, however! This is what I asked of you: if it should be proved to your satisfaction that in the execution as well as the conception of the project, the taking of Calais was due to me, and to me alone, I begged you not to give me the credit in public, for that credit would belong to you, as leader of the expedition, but simply to announce to King Henri II. the share which I had had under your orders in the conquest. You then graciously allowed me to hope that reward would be accorded me." "What! Is that the invaluable favor to which you allude, Gabriel?" asked the duke. "The deuce take me if I thought of that! But, my dear fellow, that will be no reward whatever, but a simple act of justice; and in secret or in public, as you choose, I shall be ever ready and willing to recognize and bear witness as I ought to your services and your deserts." "My ambition does not go beyond what I have asked, Monseigneur," said Gabriel. "If the king be informed of my efforts, he has it in his power to bestow upon me a reward which would be worth more to me than all the honor and good fortune in the world." "The king shall know all that you may have done for him, Gabriel. But can I do nothing more for you!" "Indeed, Monseigneur, I have one or two other demands to make upon your good-will." "Tell me," said the duke. "In the first place," said Gabriel, "I must have the countersign, so that I may be able to leave camp with my people at any hour of the night I choose." "You have only to say 'Calais and Charles,' and the sentinels will allow you to pass." "Then, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, "if I fall, and your assault succeeds, I venture to remind you that Madame Diane de Castro, the king's daughter, is Lord Wentworth's prisoner, and has an indisputable claim upon your courteous protection." "I will remember my duty as a man and a gentleman," rejoined the duke. "And then?"