Mademoiselle! 'Tis so that women make fools of men. I knew that
something of this kind was on foot when you sent for me, for I know women
and their ways. But, let me tell you, it is an ill time to speak of
honour when the streets are red! And of promises when the King's word is
'No faith with a heretic!'"

"Yet you will keep yours," she said bravely.

He did not answer at once, and hope which was almost dead in her breast
began to recover; nay, presently sprang up erect. For the man hesitated,
it was evident; he brooded with a puckered brow and gloomy eyes; an
observer might have fancied that he traced pain as well as doubt in his
face. At last--

"There is a thing," he said slowly and with a sort of glare at her,
"which, it may be, you have not reckoned. You press me now, and will
stand on your terms and your conditions, your _ifs_ and your _unlesses_!
You will have the most from me, and the bargain and a little beside the
bargain! But I would have you think if you are wise. Bethink you how it
will be between us when you are my wife--if you press me so now,
Mademoiselle. How will it sweeten things then? How will it soften them?
And to what, I pray you, will you trust for fair treatment then, if you
will be so against me now?"

She shuddered. "To the mercy of my husband," she said in a low voice.
And her chin sank on her breast.

"You will be content to trust to that?" he answered grimly. And his tone
and the lifting of his brow promised little clemency. "Bethink you! 'Tis
your rights now, and your terms, Mademoiselle! And then it will be only