that question by proclaiming you a traitor; and as a traitor I shall
arrest you and carry you to Paris. Monsieur le Seneschal, I have
the honour to give you good-day!"

When he was gone, Monsieur de Tressan flung off his wig, and mopped
the perspiration from his brow. He went white as snow and red as
fire by turns, as he paced the apartment in a frenzy. Never in the
fifteen years that were sped since he had been raised to the
governorship of the province had any man taken such a tone with him
and harangued him in such terms.

A liar and a traitor had he been called that morning, a knave and
a fool; he had been browbeaten and threatened; and he had swallowed
it all, and almost turned to lick the hand that administered the
dose. Dame! What manner of cur was he become? And the man who
had done all this - a vulgar upstart out of Paris, reeking of
leather and the barrack-room still lived!

Bloodshed was in his mind; murder beckoned him alluringly to take
her as his ally. But he put the thought from him, frenzied though
he might be. He must fight this knave with other weapons; frustrate
his mission, and send him back to Paris and the Queen's scorn,
beaten and empty-handed.

"Babylas's!" he shouted.

Immediately the secretary appeared.

"Have you given thought to the matter of Captain d'Aubran?" he
asked, his voice an impatient snarl.