"God speed you, Sire!" she said fervently.
"To my death," he rejoined gloomily.
"To victory, Sire, and your Majesty's own kingdom!" she retorted cheerily. "Nay! I, your humble, yet most faithful adherent, refuse to be cast down to-night. See," she added, pointing to the group of gentlemen who had remained discreetly in the distance, "you have brave hearts to cheer you, brave swords to help you!"
"Would I were sure of a brave ship to rescue me and them if I fail!" he murmured.
She tossed her head with a characteristic movement of impatience.
"Nay! I was determined not to speak of failure to-night, Sire."
"Yet must I think of it," he rejoined, "since the lives of my friends are dependent on me."
"They give their lives gladly for your cause."
"I would prefer to think that a good ship from France was ready to take them aboard if evil luck force us to flee."
"France has promised you that ship, Monseigneur," she said earnestly: