The old woman clasped her hands and leaned back in her chair.
“Alas!� she said, “I sent out my two soldiers to die for their king, and I cannot bid you stay, since you go to fight in the cause of the King of kings, but I grieve to part with you thus.�
He took her hand and kissed it.
“Madame,� he said, “you have been as good to me as a mother, in my extremity, and I will not forget your kindness. May God give me the opportunity to requite it. I must strike a good blow in the cause of my brethren, but I shall not forget my duty to you—and yours.�
Tears fell on her white cheeks, and she gave him her blessing.
Leaving her, he walked over to the window where the young girl had remained motionless as a statue, her face set toward the scene without.
“Mademoiselle,� he said very low, “I bid you adieu. I know that you have thought me lacking in the spirit to fight—but believe me, it was not cowardice that held me at St. Cyr.�
She looked up at him, her blue eyes clear and fearless.
“The cause is sacred,� she said. “I—I am glad that—�
She broke off, and he filled up the sentence.