"What?"
"The marriage is to-night."
"You are mad, Charles."
"I am certain of it." In a few broken sentences he shot out all that he had seen and heard. She listened with a grim face, and hands which closed ever tighter and tighter as he proceeded. But he had said the truth about the Mortemarts. They came of a contentious blood, and were ever at their best at a moment of action. Hate rather than dismay filled her heart as she listened, and the whole energy of her nature gathered and quickened to meet the crisis.
"I shall go and see him," she cried, sweeping towards the door.
"No, no, Francoise. Believe me, you will ruin everything if you do. Strict orders have been given to the guard to admit no one to the king."
"But I shall insist upon passing them."
"Believe me, sister, it is worse than useless. I have spoken with the officer of the guard, and the command is a stringent one."
"Ah, I shall manage."
"No, you shall not." He put his back against the door. "I know that it is useless, and I will not have my sister make herself the laughing-stock of the court, trying to force her way into the room of a man who repulses her."