“God forfend; but I wash my hands of the whole affair,” he cried, with a gesture of profound agitation and a sigh. “It is true, Gabrielle. The letter was written by Gerard to me some time since. It is one of several that have passed between us.”
“I do not believe it;” and Gabrielle drew herself up in proud repudiation of the further attack upon the man she loved and trusted.
“On my honour it is so, mademoiselle,” declared the Duke. “And now I must make my confession of the part I have played in this. It is no humour of mine to seek others’ forgiveness, but for what I have done in all this distressful error, I do beg yours. It was at my instance that this de Cobalt was brought to Morvaix.”
“Then do I thank you, my lord, and, believe me, I see nothing in the act which calls for forgiveness,” interposed Gabrielle swiftly, as he paused. He took no notice of the interruption; he was too deeply engrossed in thinking how to put his case most plausibly.
“My motive you will at least admit was worthy—it was the good of the people of Morvaix. Next to myself, the House of Malincourt is the most potent influence here, and thus the subject of your marriage has given me much thought. It would have been a disaster had you fallen under the sway of some unworthy man and been prevailed upon to marry him, and so let the influence of your house pass into evil hands. To prevent this, we—for your uncle has shared my views and acted with me throughout—we planned to arrange your marriage with a man who would place himself under our guidance in all matters.”
“And your lordship and you, monsieur, chose a man whose life was so evil—if this lying letter were to be credited—that he only dared to come hither when he had been assured under your lordship’s own hand of a pardon for some foul offence. Surely you would not have me credit this of you! I do not. I will not. For it involves a cruel slander upon my true and gallant cousin.”
“What the Duke says is true in every word, Gabrielle,” declared de Proballe, much relieved at the astute line the Governor was taking.
“We did not know the evil history of this man,” continued the Duke in the same quiet deliberate tone; “or he would never have been brought here. I have but learned it within the last few hours. The affair at Cambrai was mistold to us; and I have but just gathered the full details of what I find to have been a foul and most treacherous murder.”
A contemptuous smile of disbelief was Gabrielle’s only answer to this; but it was more eloquent than many words of her unshaken and unshakable faith in Gerard. The Duke paused, and after a moment resumed—
“We had heard that he had repented of his old excesses and wrong living, and when we sent for him, believed this to be the case. But when we found that his repentance was but acted lying—in which he is an adept—there seemed no course open but to put him to the proof by confronting him with his own writing, so that your eyes might be opened and yourself convinced of the impossibility of a marriage with him.”