He paused an instant, watching the young girl’s downcast face intently, and then he spoke again, with yet more earnestness.
“I have been urging Madame de St. Cyr to leave this neighborhood,� he said,—“to go to England. No one is safe here, and I cannot hope much from this insurrection, when I think of the mighty force that the king can hurl against these poor peasants.�
Rosaline raised her face, a look of inspiration on her delicate features.
“Ah, monsieur,� she said, “you forget that the bon Dieu is with us! Surely we must win, when the Captain of our Salvation leads us.�
He looked at her with admiration in his eyes. How beautiful she was!
“That is true, mademoiselle,� he replied, “but it may not be His will that we should conquer upon earth. The battle must be waged, and death and destruction follow it. I cannot bear to think of you and madame here in this château, in the very heart of it; for, doubtless, Cavalier will assault Nîmes at last.�
“Madame de St. Cyr cannot go to England,� the girl said quietly; “she is too old for the flight. We must face it.�
“Then, mademoiselle, I will remain with you here,� he declared.
She gave him a startled glance, coloring slightly.
“You promised your mother to go to England,� she reminded him; “and your single sword could never defend us.�