It was but a little thing, that gesture of hers; but Gerard saw and understood it, and on the moment it stayed the words of avowal even as they were at his lips, and changed the whole course of his action. He had come to Morvaix to ascertain the truth as to the misgovernment and, if need arose, to depose and punish the powerful Governor; but his love for Gabrielle was now so much to him and filled so much of his purpose, that he set it first and before all else.
He had won her love by a trick, an imposture. He had been in great measure forced into it by circumstances, indeed, and by his very zeal in her cause. But it was none the less a trick; and he was too proud, having won it so, to hold it by mere greatness of rank. He would not avow that rank until he had justified himself in Gabrielle’s eyes.
And even as he thought of this and formed the resolve, another consideration occurred to him. He could by this means still further test the methods of rule in Morvaix. He had had ample evidence of the Governor’s willingness to wrest the considerations of justice to his own personal ends; but it would throw a fresh light upon matters to note his conduct when he knew that the man he had first used and then threatened was not the cowardly murderer the real Gerard de Cobalt was said to be.
“Do you intend to trifle all day with me?” demanded the Governor, when Gerard had remained silent some time.
“I am not trifling, but thinking,” answered Gerard. At his calm strong tone Gabrielle took her hands from her face and with another eager, almost imploring glance, made a half step toward him, and then checked herself in deep embarrassment.
“You have need to think, I’ll warrant,” exclaimed de Proballe.
But it was to Gabrielle Gerard turned.
“You have no need to shrink from me, mademoiselle,” he said with a smile, “although I can understand you. I fear I must plead guilty to having deceived you. I am not the writer of that letter. I am not your cousin, Gerard de Cobalt.”
“So you see that game is over,” sneered de Proballe. “What lie next, pray? You will not find us so easy to be fooled now.”
“If I am not Gerard de Cobalt, monsieur,” cried Gerard, sternly, “you will still find I am a man who does not take insults lightly. For your past words I forgive you, because of your natural irritation at this discovery. But for your future words and conduct I shall hold you responsible—every word and every act.”