“I have yet to be convinced, my lord; and know no power or means on earth strong enough to convince me. My parents’ wishes——”
“Were but M. de Proballe’s invention, mademoiselle,” interposed the Duke, in the same cold deliberate tone. “The story was designed to influence you to agree. That is all. In that we did wrong—grievous wrong, no doubt; for deceit with whatever motive used must always be wrong; and in this case it has ended disastrously. For that, as well as for the pain which, with all zeal for your real welfare, I have caused you, I crave your pardon.”
“Had you indeed done the harm you fear, I would never forgive you. I never could,” answered Gabrielle, firmly; then breaking into a smile she added: “but if indeed you have brought my cousin here, then do I thank you, as I say. Aye, thank you with all my heart.”
“You do but jest in a very grave issue, mademoiselle. This marriage is impossible.” There was less deliberateness and more sternness in the Duke’s tone now, and it provoked Gabrielle’s pride. Unmistakable defiance was in her look and mien as she answered:
“By your lordship’s leave, I am head of my house; and if that part of what you have said be true—that my parents have expressed no wish for my marriage—I am free to choose without let or hindrance from any man. But here comes my cousin. He will know how to answer for himself.”
As Gerard came out of the house he started at seeing who was present, and then came on with firm step and confident bearing, and smiled to Gabrielle as he reached her side.
CHAPTER XI
THE DUKE’S SENTENCE
GERARD saw at once by the faces of all three that some fresh complication had occurred during his absence.
“I am very glad you have come, Gerard,” said Gabrielle. “M. le Duc de Rochelle and my uncle have made some charges which you will be glad to face.”
“Certainly,” he answered, with a bow to the Governor and a quick glance at de Proballe. The Duke took no notice of his salutation.