"How now, cockerel?"
M. Étienne faltered a moment. He was not burdened by shyness, but before the king's sharp glance he underwent a cold terror lest he had been too free with his tongue. However, there was naught to do but go on.
"Sire, had I fought under your banner like a man, at Dieppe and Arques and Ivry, M. de Mayenne had never dreamed of marrying his ward to me. I had never known her."
"The loveliest demoiselle I ever saw!" the king cried. "I shall marry her to one of my staunchest supporters."
The smile was washed from M. Étienne's lips. He turned as white as linen. In one moment his youth seemed to go from him. The king, unnoting, picked a parchment off the table.
"To one of my bravest captains. Here's his commission, my lad."
M. Étienne stared up from the writing into the king's laughing face.
"I, Sire? I?"