"Yes; in consideration of that which his Excellency expended in taxes—no small sum!—and what it would cost to carry on vexatious litigation!"
"You are strangely faint-hearted to pursue your advantage," said old Pierre shrewdly. "But," as the other made a gesture, "I put it to her ladyship as you desired me to, and—"
"She consented?" eagerly.
Pierre shook his head. "No, mon capitaine! She will have none of them. And you had heard her: 'A great wrong was unintentionally,' she accented the word, 'done the Seigneur Desaurac by my father, which has now been set right!' 'It has,' I assented, and would have urged further your proposal, when she stopped me. 'Speak no more of this matter!' 'Twas all she said; but—you should have seen her face, and how her eyes shone!"
The young man, looking down, made no answer. "An you are not satisfied," continued Pierre, "broach the question to my lady, yourself."
"I?" A look, half bitter, crossed the other's dark face. "Her father's enemy! Through whose servant, all her misfortunes came about! To revive anew what must so often pass in her mind?"
"Well, well; no doubt you know best, and, certes, now you remind me, she did turn cold and distant when I spoke of your coming. But let idle prejudices enter into practical concerns—it's on a par—of all improvidence! Why, 'twas not long ago, she brought me a jewel or two; Marie, it seems, had foresight enough to snatch them before fleeing from the Mount, and begged me to take them for our kindness, she said; which I did, seeing she would not have it otherwise—nor let herself be regarded as one who could not pay. But to business, mon capitaine!"
And thereafter, for some time, they, or rather, Pierre, talked; the others, save the Marquis, returned to the ship, and only Nanette, busy putting everything to rights, lingered in the room. At length, after papers had been signed and changed hands, the conversation of the host began to wane; frequently had he sipped from a bottle of liqueur at his elbow and now found himself nodding; leaned back more comfortably in the great chair and suffered his head to fall. The clock ticked out the seconds; the young man continued to sit motionless.
"'A mon beau'—" Nanette's voice, lightly humming, caused him to look up; with the old mocking expression on her face, the inn-keeper's daughter paused near his chair.
"It was kind of you, mon capitaine, to bring to my lady her Marquis!" As she spoke, she looked toward the garden.