“It will ruin everything,” whispered de Proballe.
“Then do I not understand him. He must indeed be sure of her, as he says;” and his frown grew deeper than before.
Gabrielle stood fingering the letter in hesitation some moments and then unfolded it.
“I will do your bidding, Gerard, although I had rather not.” She read it then.
“To M. Le Baron de Proballe,—
“The messenger has brought me your last communication and the sum of money I asked for. My doubts are almost satisfied. I have some troublesome matters to arrange, and some little time must pass before they can be settled. But you can count upon my reaching Malincourt by the end of June or the first days of July, if in response to this you send me a declaration under the Duke de Rochelle’s own hand that I shall receive his pardon for the affair at Cambrai. You must procure this; as without it I shall not trust myself within his province.
“You require me to state my acceptance of your proposal specifically. I now do this. I will marry Gabrielle. She shall never learn from me that her parents never expressed any such wish for our marriage as she has been told. I will use my utmost efforts to compel her, if need be, to submit to the Duke’s wishes. And I will act in every way faithfully as you may direct in any other plans you have.
“The fortune I shall receive with Gabrielle will be all I need—that and the pardon; for I seek no Court position, favour, or influence.
“Send me the written assurance of the pardon, and by the time the messenger can return hither, I may be ready to set out myself.
“Gerard de Cobalt.”