“Your lordship will perhaps see the desirability of explaining this new development to me,” he said.
“You are an insolent rascal in all truth,” was the fiery reply. “It is from you I demand the explanation. See to it that it is satisfactory. I am not wont to be trifled with.”
“I see no trifling in all this. Will you explain it, M. de Proballe?”
“You play the braggart well, Gerard, on my soul; and if I see your object may I be cursed. When with me yesterday you admitted everything; and now to-day you deny your own writing, and pledge your honour the very things you have written are false.”
Gerard regarded him sternly. “Would you have had me tell that I was brought here to Morvaix to marry Gabrielle in order to ruin her?” he demanded.
“It is false!” cried the Governor.
A flush of anger mounted to Gerard’s face at this insult.
“It accords ill with your reputation for courage, M. le Duc, that you insult a man to whom your position denies the right to call you to account. If you have no other tone to adopt toward me, I will retire. But with M. de Proballe the matter stands otherwise. You will guard your tongue, monsieur, or I shall hold you responsible.”
“What an impudent swashbuckler is this murderer,” sneered the Governor.
“I am no murderer, my lord,” asserted Gerard, hotly.