"Then you will let me past."

"My orders leave me no discretion."

"If I could have one word with the king."

"Unfortunately, monsieur, it is impossible."

"Only one word."

"It really does not rest with me, monsieur."

The angry nobleman stamped his foot, and stared at the door as though he
had some thoughts of forcing a passage. Then turning on his heel, he
hastened away down the corridor with the air of a man who has come to a
decision.

"There, now," grumbled De Catinat to himself, as he pulled at his thick
dark moustache, "he is off to make some fresh mischief. I'll have his
sister here presently, as like as not, and a pleasant little choice
between breaking my orders and making an enemy of her for life.
I'd rather hold Fort Richelieu against the Iroquois than the king's door
against an angry woman. By my faith, here _is_ a lady, as I feared!
Ah, Heaven be praised! it is a friend, and not a foe. Good-morning,
Mademoiselle Nanon."

"Good-morning, Captain de Catinat."

The new-comer was a tall, graceful brunette, her fresh face and
sparkling black eyes the brighter in contrast with her plain dress.