I took her hands and drew her towards me.
“Look in my eyes and tell me what you see there.”
She glanced up scared and entreating.
“But, is it cruelty, false faith, the currish soul of the liar and informer?”
“No, no, m’sieu’.”
“Then is it not, rather, the honour of a gentleman, the chivalry that would help and protect a defenceless woman cast adrift in this fearful land of blood and licence?”
I gave her my title.
“Now,” I said, “you can cast me to the axe with a word. And where is Mademoiselle Carinne, Georgette?”
She still hesitated. I could see the little womanly soul of her tossing on a lake of tears.
“At least,” I said, “she will not return hither?”