But he had no excuse for lingering—had, on the other hand, a wild desire to be alone, in order to think, to remember and to dream. So, having bowed his last farewell, he turned to go, and found de Landas barring his way.
'You will pay for this outrage, Messire,' said the latter in a quick whisper through his set teeth.
'Whenever you please,' replied Gilles imperturbably.
'To-night——'
'Surely not while ladies are present,' broke in Gilles quietly.
''Tis in Madame's presence,' retorted de Landas roughly, 'whom you have insulted, that I and my friends——'
'Messire!' protested Jacqueline firmly.
'Ah! a valorous half-dozen then?' rejoined Gilles lightly. 'I see that you—and your friends, Messire—have no intention of taking any risks.'
'Our intention is to tear that mask off your impudent face and make you lick the dust at Madame Jacqueline's feet.'
'And mine,' riposted Gilles gaily, 'is to collect a trophy of half a dozen masks—yours, Messire, and those of your friends—on the point of my sword and to place these with my homage at Madame Jacqueline's feet.'