"Ah! Quite so," said the Marquis, helping himself to a pinch of snuff from a jeweled box, quite after the fashion of the old régime. He shut the box and tapped it gently. "There is, I believe, a vacancy in the regiment, a Captaincy. My gracious King, whom God and the saints preserve, leaves the appointment to me. It is at your service. I regret that I can offer you no higher rank. I shall be glad to have you in my command," he went on. "It is meet and right that you should be there. I and my house have been well served for generations by your house."
"I regret that I cannot accept your offer."
"Why not?" asked the Marquis haughtily. "It is not to every wandering officer that I would have made it."
"I should have to swear allegiance to your King, monsieur, and that I——"
"Enough," said the Marquis imperiously. "The offer is withdrawn. You may go, sir."
"I have a duty to discharge before I avail myself of your courteous permission," said the young man firmly.
"My uncle," said the girl, "you cannot dismiss Monsieur Jean Marteau in that cavalier fashion. It is due to him that I am here."
"No, curse me, Marquis," burst out Sir Gervaise, wagging his big head at the tall, French noble, "you don't know how much you owe to that young man. Why, even I would not have been here but for him."
"I am deeply sensible to the obligations under which he has laid me, both through the Comtesse Laure, and through you, old friend. I have just endeavored to discharge them. If there be any other way—— Monsieur is recently from prison—perhaps the state of his finances—if he would permit me——" continued the Marquis, who was not without generous impulses, it seemed.
"Sir," interrupted Marteau, "I thank you, but I came here to confer, not to receive, benefits."