father was a gentleman! If you had shot monsieur before seven, you
would have taken the dungeon he left. You must learn, my young
provincial, that you are not to supersede France and the King. It
is now seven o'clock; you will march your men back into quarters."

Then turning to me, he raised his cap. "You will find your cloak
more comfortable, Captain Moray," said he, and he motioned Gabord
to hand it to me, as he came forward. "May I breakfast with you?"
he added courteously. He yawned a little. "I have not risen so
early in years, and I am chilled to the bone. Gabord insists that
it is warm in your dungeon; I have a fancy to breakfast there. It
will recall my year in the Bastile."

He smiled in a quaint, elusive sort of fashion, and as I drew
the cloak about me, I said through chattering teeth, for I had
suffered with the brutal cold, "I am glad to have the chance to
offer breakfast."

"To me or any one?" he dryly suggested. "Think! by now, had I
not come, you might have been in a warmer world than this--indeed,
much warmer," he suddenly said, as he stooped, picked up some snow
in his bare hand, and clapped it to my cheek, rubbing it with force
and swiftness. The cold had nipped it, and this was the way to
draw out the frost. His solicitude at the moment was so natural
and earnest that it was hard to think he was my enemy.

When he had rubbed awhile, he gave me his own handkerchief to
dry my face; and so perfect was his courtesy, it was impossible to
do otherwise than meet him as he meant and showed for the moment.
He had stepped between me and death, and even an enemy who does