“I do not fight with women, mademoiselle, and pardon your deceit.”
“But you are hurt; let me bind your arm,” she said solicitously, seeing that it dangled at his side.
He drew himself up and looked at her steadily as he replied—
“Thank you, mademoiselle; the wound to my arm is nothing, but you have killed my trust in the word of a beautiful woman,” and he signed to the men in charge of him to take him on.
“I am sorry for him,” she said to Pascal.
“He brought it on himself, the hot-headed young fool,” was the reply.
“How brave you are, monsieur! I saw him rush at you and believed he would have killed you. And you were so cool.”
“We had to avoid bloodshed, somehow, and thank God we did so. And now, what will be the next move from the Castle when this party like the rest don’t return? How shrewdly you held him in talk, mademoiselle. You wasted half an hour at least, and now another is gone. It will be dark before the Duke gets here after all.”
“I am almost ashamed of my part,” murmured Lucette.
“Nay, ’tis all fair in war, and—some other things. But I am getting more afraid of you than ever,” answered Pascal, laughing and turning to meet Gerard, who had been to tell Gabrielle the news, and now came up with her. She congratulated Pascal on the success.