that, no matter what the motive, deserves something at your hands.

"Gabord," he said, as we stepped inside the citadel, "we will
breakfast at eight o'clock. Meanwhile, I have some duties with our
officers here. Till we meet in your dining-hall, then, monsieur,"
he added to me, and raised his cap.

"You must put up with frugal fare," I answered, bowing.

"If you but furnish locusts," he said gaily, "I will bring the
wild honey.... What wonderful hives of bees they have at the
Seigneur Duvarney's!" he continued musingly, as if with second
thought; "a beautiful manor--a place for pretty birds and
honey-bees!"

His eyelids drooped languidly, as was their way when he had said
something a little carbolic, as this was to me, because of its
hateful suggestion. His words drew nothing from me, not even a look
of understanding, and, again bowing, we went our ways.

At the door of the dungeon Gabord held the torch up to my face. His
own had a look which came as near to being gentle as was possible
to him. Yet he was so ugly that it looked almost ludicrous in him.
"Poom!" said he. "A friend at court. More comfits."

"You think Monsieur Doltaire gets comfits, too?" asked I.

He rubbed his cheek with a key. "Aho!" mused he--"aho! M'sieu'
Doltaire rises not early for naught."