'No.'
'What then?
'By the side of Vaudemont and Duke Charles. In France, your Scottish Hamiltons are Dukes of Chatelherault in Poitou; your Forbeses are Lords of La Faye; your Douglases are Dukes of Touraine and Lords of Longoville; your Stuarts are Lords of Aubigne, Governors of Avignon, and Dukes of Calabria. Why may not you become a count or prince in our duchy of Lorraine?'
'Impossible!'
'Why impossible?'
'Because the days of Lorraine as a duchy are doomed, and because I am a soldier of France. Tempt me not, for my honour—'
'Will be dear to me as my own; so I pray you to excuse me,' said she, while her tears fell fast,
'To-night, Louise, I go, never to return; but my soul I give to God—my sword to France—my heart to you.'
'You are going—' she faltered.
'Yes.'