He said it in such honest surprise and with such a steady glance that
the heavy fear that had hung on me dropped from me like a dead-weight,
and suddenly I turned quite dizzy and fell into the nearest chair.

A dash of water in the face made me look up, to see Yeux-gris standing
wet-handed by me.

"Mon dieu!" he cried, "you were as white as the wall. Do you love so
much this Lucas who struck you?"

"No," I said, rising; "I thought you meant to kill the duke."

"Did you take us for Leaguers?"

I nodded.

He spoke as if actually he felt it important to set himself right in my
eyes.

"Well, we are none. We are no politicians, but private gentlemen with a
grudge to pay. I care not what the parties do. Whether we have the
Princess Isabelle or Henry the Huguenot, 'tis all one to me; I am not
putting either on the throne. So if you have got it into your head that
we are plotting for the League, why, get it out again."

"But you are enemies to the Duke of St. Quentin?"

He answered me slowly: