He was staring at the tablecloth and the stain of the wine that he
had spilled when first Mademoiselle de Lavedan's name was mentioned.
His head had been bent so that his long black hair had tumbled
forward and partly veiled his face. At my question he suddenly
looked up. The ghost of a smile hung on his sensuous lips, for all
that excitement had paled his countenance beyond its habit.

"Monsieur le Marquis." said he rising, "I take your wager, and I
pledge my lands in Normandy against yours of Bardelys. Should you
lose, they will no longer call you the Magnificent; should I lose
--I shall be a beggar. It is a momentous wager, Bardelys, and
spells ruin for one of us."

"A madness!" groaned Mironsac.

"Mordieux!" swore Cazalet. Whilst La Fosse, who had been the
original cause of all this trouble, vented his excitement in a
gibber of imbecile laughter.

"How long do you give me, Chatellerault?" I asked, as quietly as
I might.

"What time shall you require?"

"I should prefer that you name the limit," I answered.

He pondered a moment. Then "Will three months suffice you?" he
asked.

"If it is not done in three months, I will pay," said I.