"What Mayenne wishes he'll have," Vigo said. "Some day you will surely get a chance to fight Lucas, monsieur."
"And meantime he is to enjoy her?"
"It is a pity," Vigo admitted. "But there is Mayenne. Can we storm the Hôtel de Lorraine? No one can drink up the sea."
"One could if he wanted to as much as I want mademoiselle," my lord declared.
But Vigo shook his head.
"Monsieur," he said gravely, "monsieur, you have a great chance. You have a sword and a good cause to draw it in. What more should a man ask in the world than that? Your father has been without it these three years, and for want of it he has eaten his heart out. You have been without it, and you have got yourself into all sorts of mischief. But now all that is coming straight. King Henry is turning Catholic, so that a man may follow him without offence to God. He is a good fellow and a first-rate general. He's just out there, at St. Denis. There's your place, M. Étienne."
"Not to-day, Vigo."
"Yes, M. Étienne, to-day. Be advised, monsieur," Vigo said with his steady persistence. "There is nothing to gain by staying here to drink up the sea. Mayenne will no more give your lady to you now than he would give her to Félix. And you can no more carry her off than could Félix. Mayenne will have you killed and flung into the Seine, as easy as eat breakfast."
"And you bid me grudge my life? Strange counsel from you, Vigo."
"No, monsieur, but I bid you not throw it away. We all hope to die afield, but we have a preference how and where. If you fell fighting for Navarre, I should be sorry; Monsieur would grieve deep. But we should say it was well; we grudged not your life to the country and the king. While, if you fall in this fool affair—"