The Duke drew back a step.
“I implore you allow me to depart,” continued the Marquis. “We shall never understand each other.”
M. de Richelieu twisted his fingers in the curls on his bosom.
“What object have you in keeping silence about last night?” he asked shortly.
“What object,” returned Luc proudly, “have I in speaking?”
“Oh, you seem to have a great sympathy with heretics and charlatans and the baser sort. And what of your servant?”
“He did not see your Highness in the full light. Besides, he was a soldier, and is devoted to the house of de Clapiers; you may, Monseigneur, be assured he will not speak.”
“That means that I have taken two obligations from you—my sword last night and your promise now,” said the Duke very proudly. “It is impossible, Monsieur le Marquis, that you should refuse to take anything from me.”
“I want nothing of your Highness,” replied Luc; for he thought of the Duke’s offers as so many bribes, nothing more.
M. de Richelieu was galled and angry; it was the first time in his life that he had felt himself obliged to anyone. He was an adept in bestowing favours, but had never before received one save from the King. His breeding, however, took the defeat gracefully.