truth, as none other had done in all his days. He was silent for a long
moment, then raised his hand in protest.

"You have a strange idea of what makes offence and shame. I offered you
marriage," he said complacently. "And when I come to think upon it,
after all that you have said, fair Huguenot, I see no cause for railing.
You call me this and that; to you I am a liar, a rogue, a cut-throat,
what you will; and yet, and yet, I will have my way--I will have my way
in the end."

"You offered me marriage--and meant it not. Do I not know? Did you rely
so little on your compelling powers, my lord, that you must needs resort
to that bait? Do you think that you will have your way to-morrow if you
have failed to-day?"

With a quick change of tone and a cold, scornful laugh he rejoined: "Do
you intend to measure swords with me?"

"No, no, my lord," she answered quietly; "what should one poor unfriended
girl do in contest with the Earl of Leicester? But yet, in very truth,
I have friends, and in my hour of greatest need I shall go seeking."

She was thinking of the Queen. He guessed her thought.

"You will not be so mad," he said urbanely again. "Of what can you
complain to the Queen? Tut, tut, you must seek other friends than the
Majesty of England!"

"Then, my lord, I will," she answered bravely. "I will seek the help of
such a Friend as fails not when all fails, even He who putteth down the