"It _shall_ be, my Lord,--I know not how, but I am sure of it." "In that case, Monsieur," said Wentworth, with a scornful smile, "you will have to take Calais by assault." Gabriel reflected a moment. "I will take Calais by assault, my Lord," said he. "_Au revoir_!" He saluted and left the room, leaving Lord Wentworth as if turned to stone, and in doubt as to whether he ought to smile or be alarmed. Gabriel returned at once to the house of Pierre Peuquoy. He found Pierre polishing the hilt of his sword, Jean making knots in his rope, and Babette sighing. He repeated to his friends the conversation he had had with the governor, and announced his approaching departure. Not even did he conceal from them the possibly reckless remark with which he had taken leave of Lord Wentworth. Then he said,-- "Now I am going to my room to make my preparations, and I leave you to your swords, Pierre; you, Jean, to your ropes; and you to your sighs, Babette." He went, as he had said, to put everything in order for his departure in all haste. Now that he was free, time seemed to creep along until he could get to Paris to rescue his father, and return to Calais to rescue Diane. When he left his room half an hour later, he found Babette on the landing. "Are you going, Monsieur le Vicomte?" she asked. "Shall you no more ask me why I weep so much?" "No, my child; for I hope that when I come back you will have ceased to weep." "I hope so too, Monseigneur," said Babette, "You expect to come back, then, do you, in spite of the governor's threats?" "I promise you that I will, Babette." "And your squire, Martin-Guerre, too, I suppose?" "Yes, to be sure." "Are you sure that you will find Martin-Guerre at Paris, however, Monsieur d'Exmès?" rejoined the young girl. "He is not a dishonest man, is he? Of course he hasn't appropriated your ransom? He is not capable of an act of--infidelity?" "I would be willing to take my oath to his loyalty," said Gabriel, rather surprised at these questions. "Martin has an uncertain disposition, especially since a short time ago; and it is as if there were two different men in his body,--one simple-minded, and very quiet in his ways; the other crafty and noisy. But aside from this variable character, he is a trusty and faithful servant." "And no more likely to betray a woman than to deceive his master, is he?" "Oh, that is another matter," said Gabriel; "and I confess that I would not answer for him there." "Well, then, Monseigneur," said poor Babette, turning pale, "will you be kind enough to hand him this ring? He will know from whom it comes and what it means." "I will give it to him, Babette," said Gabriel, recalling the last evening before his squire's departure,--"I will give it to him; but the person who sends it knows, I presume, that Martin-Guerre is married." "Married!" shrieked Babette. "Then, Monseigneur, keep the ring,--throw it away, do anything with it, rather than give it to him." "But, Babette--"