For a moment he stood and stared angrily at me, then, as once before, his face softened.
"Oh, you poor child! There are six separate guards, and you could not pass the first of them."
"What! Not with that?" and I held the signet up towards him.
"That?" He bent forward uncomprehendingly. But a single glance was enough, and as he understood, I saw him wince.
"The ring de Helville carried away? I remember now. When the King asked for it I said I had given it to him that there might be no delay on his return. He was so eager for news that he held me excused."
"Then you are beaten, Monseigneur?"
"Yes and No," he answered. "I will tell you the whole truth, Mademoiselle. The King is too ill; this time I fear he is dying."
"And yet I shall see him. Monsieur de Helville is more to me than any King living or dying."
"Mademoiselle, you force me to say more than is safe. Alas! it is you who are beaten. You might as well cry to a log upon the bed. The King is unconscious. Had that not been so, I could not have left him. The express from Poictiers sapped his strength."
"The news of Gaspard's arrest? That is the finger of God, Monseigneur."