fear monsieur--while I learned secrets of state, among them news of
you. Three nights ago Monsieur Doltaire was talking with me at a
ball--ah, those feastings while you were lying in a dungeon, and I
shutting up my love and your danger close in my heart, even from
those who loved me best! Well, suddenly he said, 'I think I will
not have our English captain shifted to a better world.'

"My heart stood still; I felt an ache across my breast so that I
could hardly breathe. 'Why will you not?' said I; 'was not the
sentence just?' He paused a minute, and then replied, 'All
sentences are just when an enemy is dangerous.' Then said I as in
surprise, 'Why, was he no spy, after all?' He sat back, and laughed
a little. 'A spy according to the letter of the law, but you have
heard of secret history--eh?' I tried to seem puzzled, for I had a
thought there was something private between you and him which has
to do with your fate. So I said, as if bewildered, 'You mean there
is evidence which was not shown at the trial?' He answered slowly,
'Evidence that would bear upon the morals, not the law of the
case.' Then said I, 'Has it to do with you, monsieur?' 'It has to
do with France,' he replied. 'And so you will not have his death?'
I asked. 'Bigot wishes it,' he replied, 'for no other reason than
that Madame Cournal has spoken nice words for the good-looking
captain, and because that unsuccessful duel gave Vaudreuil an
advantage over himself. Vaudreuil wishes it because he thinks it
will sound well in France, and also because he really believes the
man a spy. The Council do not care much; they follow the Governor
and Bigot, and both being agreed, their verdict is unanimous.'
He paused, then added, 'And the Seigneur Duvarney--and his
daughter--wish it because of a notable injury to one of their
name.' At that I cautiously replied, 'No, my father does not wish