"I am pressed for time, monseigneur; my undertaking weighs on me; I fear to feel remorse. That astonishes and alarms you, does it not, monseigneur? But reassure yourself; the remorse of a man such as I am troubles no one but himself."
"In truth, monsieur," cried the regent, with a feeling of joy he could not quite conceal, "I think you are drawing back."
"Not so, monseigneur; since fate chose me to strike the prince, I have gone steadily forward, and shall do so till my mission is accomplished."
"Monsieur, I thought I detected some hesitation in your words; and words are of weight in certain mouths, and under certain circumstances."
"Monsieur, in Bretagne we speak as we feel, but we also do as we promise."
"Then you are resolved?"
"More than ever."
"Because, you see," replied the regent, "there is still time—the evil is not yet done."
"The evil, you call it, monseigneur," said Gaston; "what shall I call it then?"
"It is thus that I meant it," replied the regent; "the evil is for you, since you feel remorse."