"It is an easy thing for you to tell me what to do. Tell me, rather,
how to do it, how to overcome her opposition."

"You are very sure of opposition - strangely sure, monsieur," said
Garnache, looking him between the eyes. "In any case, you have
soldiers."

"And so has she, and the strongest castle in southern France - to
say nothing of the most cursed obstinacy in the world. What she
says, she does."

"And what the Queen says her loyal servants do," was Garnache's
rejoinder, in a withering tone. "I think there is nothing more to
be said, monsieur," he added. "By this time to-morrow I shall
expect to receive from you, here, the charge of Mademoiselle de La
Vauvraye. A demain, donc, Monsieur le Seneschal."

And with another bow the man from Paris drew himself erect, turned
on his heel, and went jingling and creaking from the room.

The Lord Seneschal sank back in his chair, and wondered to himself
whether to die might not prove an easy way out of the horrid
situation into which chance and his ill-starred tenderness for the
Dowager of Condillac had thrust him.

At his desk sat his secretary, who had been a witness of the
interview, lost in wonder almost as great as the Seneschal's own.

For an hour Tressan remained where he was, deep in thought and
gnawing at his beard. Then with a sudden burst of passion,