“I would I could be present. Not that I doubt you; maybe,” she smiled, “it is only because I do not like to be parted from you.”
“The minutes will be no less leaden to me while I am away;” and again they smiled each to the other with such a glance that the Duke could endure no more.
“This must end,” he whispered fiercely. “I will bear no more;” and he was moving impetuously when de Proballe stayed him and whispered in reply—
“I beg you have patience, my lord. He is but adopting my suggestion and wooing her that the marriage may take place the sooner.”
“Then he must find some other way. It is hell to me.”
“Stay; some one comes. By all the saints in heaven, it is Denys!”
He was walking with difficulty, and leaning on Lucette’s arm for support.
“It is he who knows something of our plans, my lord, and should have been silenced by your men yesterday. He must be stopped, or he will poison her ears against him.”
But the Duke, catching eagerly at the words, laid a strong hand on de Proballe’s arm and held him as he whispered in tense accents—
“Let him do it, and I will thank him. Stay, monsieur, I order you.”