"Yes; before I take leave of you, whom I may never see again in this world, I have a boon to ask."
"Speak, monsieur, I listen."
"Monsieur," said Gaston, "do not wonder if I hesitate a moment, for this is no personal favor and no ordinary service—Gaston de Chanlay needs but a dagger, and here it is; but in sacrificing his body he would not lose his soul; mine, monseigneur, belongs first to God and then to a young girl whom I love to idolatry—sad love, is it not, which has bloomed so near a tomb? To abandon this pure and tender girl would be to tempt God in a most rash manner, for I see that sometimes he tries us cruelly, and lets even his angels suffer. I love, then, an adorable woman, whom my affection has supported and protected against infamous schemes; when I am dead or banished, what will become of her? Our heads fall, monseigneur; they are those of simple gentlemen; but you are a powerful adversary, and supported by a powerful king; you can conquer evil fortune. I wish to place in your hands the treasure of my soul. You will bestow on her all the protection which, as an accomplice, as an associate, you owe to me."
"Monsieur, I promise you," replied the regent, deeply moved.
"That is not all, monseigneur; misfortune may overtake me, and find me not able to bestow my person upon her; I would yet leave her my name. If I die she has no fortune, for she is an orphan. On leaving Nantes I made a will wherein I left her everything I possessed. Monseigneur, if I die, let her be a widow—is it possible?"
"Who opposes it?"
"No one; but I may be arrested to-morrow, this evening, on putting my foot outside this house."
The regent started at this strange presentiment.
"Suppose I am taken to the Bastille; could you obtain for me permission to marry her before my execution?"
"I am sure of it."