"Mademoiselle, it is yours to say what you can do."
As for me, I dropped on my knees and laid my lips to her fingers, softly, for fear even their pressure might hurt her tenderness.
"Mademoiselle!" I cried in pure delight. "Mademoiselle, that you are here!"
She flushed under my words.
"Ah, it is no little thing brought me. You knew M. de Mar was arrested?"
We assented; she went on, more to me than to Vigo, as if in telling me she was telling M. Étienne. She spoke low, as if in pain.
"After supper M. de Mayenne went back to his cabinet and let out Paul de Lorraine."
"I wish we had killed him," I muttered. "We had no time or weapons."
"M. de Mayenne sent for me then," she went on, wetting her lips. "I have never seen him so angry. He was furious because M. de Mar had been before his face and he had not known it. He felt he had been made a mock of. He raged against me—I never knew he could be so angry. He said the Spanish envoy was too good for me; I should marry Paul de Lorraine to-morrow."
"Mordieu, mademoiselle!"