"I see, Monseigneur, that you are at present involved in one of those periods of doubt and anxiety which come to the greatest of men in the midst of their greatest works. One word, however: Surely no such lofty genius, no such consummate general, as he to whom I have the honor of speaking, could have lightly engaged in so momentous an enterprise as this, unless the smallest details, the most unlikely contingencies, had all been discussed at the Louvre. You must have worked out in advance favorable results for all possible sudden changes of fortune, and remedies for all possible ills. How does it happen, then, that you are hesitating and seeking anew for them now?" "_Mon Dieu_!" said the Duc de Guise, "your youthful enthusiasm and confidence fascinated and blinded me, I believe, Gabriel." "Monseigneur!" said Gabriel, reproachfully. "Oh, don't feel wounded, I beg, for I bear you no ill-will for it, my friend! I still admire your design, which was both a grand and a patriotic one. But stern reality is very fond of destroying our fairest dreams. Nevertheless, I remember distinctly that I laid before you certain objections, founded upon the possibility of this very extremity to which we are now reduced, and that you removed my scruples." "And how, Monseigneur, please?" "You promised me," said the Duc de Guise, "that if we succeeded in a few days in gaining possession of the two forts of Ste. Agathe and Nieullay, the secret arrangement that you had with persons in the town would place the Risbank fort in our hands, and thus Calais might be shut off from all hope of reinforcement by sea or land. Yes, Gabriel, I remember, and you must remember yourself, that you gave me that assurance." "Very well!" said Gabriel, without the least symptom of anxiety or embarrassment. "Well," rejoined the duke, "your hopes deceived you, did they not? Your friends in Calais have failed to keep their word, as was to be expected. They are evidently not yet certain of our success, and are timid; consequently they will not show themselves until it is too late to do us any good." "Pardon me, Monseigneur, but who told you that?" asked Gabriel. "Why, your very silence, my dear fellow. The time has come when our secret allies ought to come to our assistance, in which event they might perhaps save us. They give no sign, and your lips are sealed; therefore I conclude that you no longer rely upon them, and that we must renounce all hope of succor from that quarter." "If you knew me better, Monseigneur," was Gabriel's response, "you would know that I never like to talk when I can act." "What's that? Do you still have hopes?" asked the Duc de Guise. "Yes, Monseigneur, since I am still living," Gabriel replied, in a grave and melancholy tone. "And the Risbank fort?" "Shall be in your hands when necessary, unless I am dead." "But, Gabriel, it will be necessary to-morrow,--to-morrow morning!"