"I speak as I feel, Monseigneur; but I will repeat that I make no complaints, and that the promises upon which I relied have been fulfilled--to the letter. So let us talk no more of my affairs, I beg, for you know that subject of conversation was never agreeable to me, and it is to-day more painful than ever. I ask you, Monseigneur, in pity not to insist upon your kindly meant inquiries." The duke was struck with Gabriel's dolorous tone. "Very well, my friend," said he; "I shall be afraid now of touching unintentionally upon some one of your scarcely healed scars, and I will question you no further about yourself." "Thanks, Monseigneur," was Gabriel's reply, in a dignified tone, by no means free from emotion. "But I wish you to be sure of this," continued Le Balafré, "that at all times and places, and for any purpose whatsoever, my influence, my fortune, and my life are at your service, Gabriel; and that if I am ever to be so fortunate as that you should need my help, you have but to hold out your hand to grasp mine." "Thanks, Monseigneur," Gabriel said again. "That being agreed between us," said the duke, "on what subject is it your pleasure that we should converse?" "Why, of yourself, Monseigneur," replied the young count,--"of your glory and of your future plans; those are the subjects which interest rue. In them you will find the magnet which has drawn me to you in all haste at your first call." "My glory? my plans for the future?" retorted François de Lorraine, with a shake of the head. "Alas! those are gloomy subjects of conversation for me as well." "What mean you, Monseigneur?" Gabriel exclaimed. "What I say, my friend. Yes, I confess that I did think I had won some renown; it seemed to me that my name deserved to be pronounced with some respect in France to-day, and with a certain degree of awe throughout Europe. And since my not unworthy past made it my duty to think of the future, I was forming plans based upon my reputation, and dreaming of great achievements,--great for my country, and for myself as well. I would have accomplished them, I have faith to believe--" "Well, Monseigneur?" said Gabriel, inquiringly. "Well, Gabriel, since my return to this court six months since, I have ceased to believe in my glory, and have abandoned all my plans." "Why so, in God's name?" "Why, in the first place, don't you know of the shameful treaty with which they have crowned our victories? If we had been forced to raise the siege of Calais, if the English still had the gateways of France in their hands,--in short, if defeat at all points had demonstrated the insufficiency or incompetency of our forces, and the impossibility of continuing an unequal conflict, we could not have been asked to sign a more unfavorable and dishonorable treaty than that of Cateau-Cambrésis." "That is true, Monseigneur," Gabriel remarked; "and every one grieves to think that such a magnificent harvest yielded so little fruit."