"There is scarce the need," I answered softly; whereupon her eyes
were raised to ask a hundred questions. "You are satisfied with
my efforts, mademoiselle?" I inquired.

"Yes, I am satisfied, monsieur."

That was the end, I told myself, and involuntarily I also sighed.
Still, I made no shift to go.

"You are satisfied that I - that I have fulfilled what I promised?"

Her eyes were again cast down, and she took a step in the direction
of the window.

"But yes. Your promise was to save my father from the scaffold.
You have done so, and I make no doubt you have done as much to
reduce the term of his banishment as lay within your power. Yes,
monsieur, I am satisfied that your promise has been well fulfilled."

Heigho! The resolve that I had formed in coming whispered it in
my ear that nothing remained but to withdraw and go my way. Yet
not for all that resolve - not for a hundred such resolves - could
I have gone thus. One kindly word, one kindly glance at least
would I take to comfort me. I would tell her in plain words of my
purpose, and she should see that there was still some good, some
sense of honour in me, and thus should esteem me after I was gone.

"Ganymede." said I.