It was a terrible blow to poor Lucette. She had been educated in truth and honor; a lie was abhorrent to all her previous feelings and thoughts; and yet, if she told the truth, she knew or believed that she was condemning one whom she now felt she loved more than any one on earth, to an ignominious death. She turned deadly pale, and raised her eyes to Edward's face, as if seeking counsel or help.
Edward gave the help without a moment's hesitation. Stepping quickly forward so as to stand immediately before the prelate's chair, he said, "Ask her not that question, my lord cardinal. Neither make those sweet honest lips utter a word of falsehood, nor force them to betray a secret she thinks herself bound to keep. I will answer for her. She has heard me called by another name; but I could not have come into this country without obtaining the passport of Sir Peter Apsley,—a young man of my own age and height,—who had given up the intention of visiting France. My name is Edward Langdale, son of Sir Richard Langdale, of Buckley, of as good and old a family as his whose name I took."
Richelieu gazed at him coldly, without the least mark of surprise. "You have tried to deceive me," he said; "but you could not. It was a dangerous experiment, sir. And, now, what have you to say why the fate you have sought should not fall upon your head?"
"Not much, your Eminence," replied Edward; "and all I have to say is written here." And, as he spoke, he stretched forth his hand and took the verses he had before read from the small table at the cardinal's right hand, and repeated the first stanza:—
"'Who on the height of power would stand must be Hard as a rock to those who dare his arm; To the indifferent, cool; and tenderly Treat the young faults of those who mean no harm.'
"That is all I can plead in favor of forgiveness."
"And you have fairly won it," said Richelieu, gravely; "but it shall come in such a shape as perhaps you do not expect."
The words were ambiguous, and the cardinal's look was so cold that Lucette's heart fell. She hesitated a moment, and then cast herself at Richelieu's feet, murmuring, "Oh, spare him, my lord! spare him! He has told you the whole truth now."
"Whatever becomes of me," exclaimed Edward, "for God's sake, give not up this dear girl to Madame de Chevreuse."