'Where I not, and sure, too, from what I am told of your
gallantry when my cousin took Brouage, that you are a man of
deeds rather than words, I should not be here with the
proposition I am going to lay before you. It is this. I can
give you no hope of public employment, M. de Marsac, but I can
offer you an adventure if adventures be to your taste--as
dangerous and as thankless as any Amadis ever undertook.'

'As thankless, sire?' I stammered, doubting if I had heard
aright, the expression was so strange.

'As thankless,' he answered, his keen eyes seeming to read my
soul. 'I am frank with you, you see, sir,' he continued,
carelessly. 'I can suggest this adventure--it is for the good of
the State--I can do no more. The King of Navarre cannot appear
in it, nor can he protect you. Succeed or fail in it, you stead
alone. The only promise I make is, that if it ever be safe for
me to acknowledge the act, I will reward the doer.'

He paused, and for a few moments I stared at him in sheer
amazement. What did he mean? Were he and the other real
figures, or was I dreaming?

'Do you understand?' he asked at length, with a touch of
impatience.

'Yes, sire, I think I do,' I murmured, very certain in truth and
reality that I did not.

'What do you say, then--yes or no?' he rejoined. 'Will you