"I say what I know. Trust me, and give me time to prove it."
"We do trust you, indeed we do. Love in Amboise? Is it for that you are here?"
"Yes," answered La Mothe soberly. "It is for that I am here?"
"And Monsieur d'Argenton? Is that why he is here too?"
For a moment La Mothe returned no reply, but stood passing his fingers through Charlemagne's soft hair. The lie direct or the lie inferential would parry the question and possibly serve both Commines and the King; but how could he keep his hands clean in Amboise and lie even by inference to Ursula de Vesc who had said so simply, "We trust you"? It was impossible, not to be thought of for a moment, but neither was the whole truth.
"Monsieur d'Argenton and I are not upon the same errand," he said at last. "Some day, when you know me better, and trust me for something better than a little brute courage which any man in my place would have shown, I will ask you a question. When you have answered it—and I know what the answer will be—I will tell you why Monsieur d'Argenton is in Amboise."
"Monsieur La Mothe, ask your question now."
"No, the time has not come. But I will ask this: Help me that the
Dauphin may trust me, and together we will make the end of the story
Love and Peace and Faith."
"Love and Peace and Faith," she repeated, her eyes filling for the second time. "They have long been strangers to Amboise. God send our France such a trinity."
And again La Mothe had to check himself lest he should reply, "To you too, mademoiselle." To bring just such a trinity into her life, Love which worketh Faith, and the Peace which is born of both, was the one supreme good which the world could offer out of all the gifts in its treasure-house. But, as he said of his question, the time had not yet come, so he changed the blunt directness to the more oblique "Not to France alone," and was rewarded by seeing the serious wistfulness shift into a gay smile, as she curtsied mockingly with a "Merci, monsieur!" very different from the same words of the previous night. Then she added, as the dogs, following her lighter mood, sprung upon her anew: