from public knowledge. The few who guessed his romance were puzzled to
understand his cause: for if he dispossessed Philip, Guida must also be
dispossessed. This, certainly, was not lover-like or friendly.

But Detricand was not at all puzzled; his mind and purpose were clear.
Guida should come to no injury through him--Guida who, as they left the
Cohue Royale that day of days, had turned on him a look of heavenly trust
and gratitude; who, in the midst of her own great happenings, found time
to tell him by a word how well she knew he had kept his promise to her,
even beyond belief. Justice for her was now the supreme and immediate
object of his life. There were others ready also to care for France, to
fight for her, to die for her, to struggle towards the hour when the King
should come to his own; but there was only one man in the world who could
achieve Guida's full justification, and that was himself, Detricand of
Vaufontaine.

He was glad to turn to the Chevalier's letters from Jersey. It was from
the Chevalier's lips he had learned the whole course of Guida's life
during the four years of his absence from the island. It was the
Chevalier who drew for him pictures of Guida in her new home, none
other than the house of Elie Mattingley, which the Royal Court having
confiscated now handed over to her as an act of homage. The little world
of Jersey no longer pointed the finger of scorn at Guida Landresse de
Landresse, but bent the knee to Princess Guida d'Avranche.

Detricand wrote many letters to the Chevalier, and they with their
cheerful and humorous allusions were read aloud to Guida--all save one
concerning Philip. Writing of himself to the Chevalier on one occasion,
he laid bare with a merciless honesty his nature and his career.
Concerning neither had he any illusions.