"Ah, Madame, I ask no more than that," said Gabriel.
"Just one word more," resumed Diane. "How," she added, fixing a piercing glance upon the young man,—"how and why did you make up your mind to speak of a mysterious affair, which seems to be of some consequence, before me,—before a woman who may be anything but discreet for aught you know of her, and an entire stranger to this whole matter?"
"I had two reasons, Madame," replied Gabriel, with perfect sang-froid. "In the first place, I imagined that there neither could be nor should be any secret in his Majesty's heart so far as you are concerned. In that case, it was only disclosing to you what you were sure to know sooner or later, or what you already knew. In the second place, I hoped, as indeed has come to pass, that you would deign to support my request to the king; that you would urge him to put me to this proof; and that you, a woman, would be found, as you always have been, on the side of clemency."
It would have been impossible for the closest scrutiny to detect in Gabriel's tone the least inflection of irony, or upon his calm and unmoved features the slightest symptom of a disdainful smile; and Madame Diane's penetrating gaze was thrown away.
She responded to a speech which might after all have been meant to be complimentary by a slight inclination of the head.
"Allow me one more question," she said, "just as to one circumstance which has aroused my curiosity, that is all. How is it that you who are so young happen to be in possession of a secret that is eighteen years old?"
"I reply so much the more willingly, Madame," said Gabriel, gravely and sombrely, "because my reply may serve to convince you of God's intervention in the matter. My father's squire, one Perrot Travigny, who was killed in the transactions which preceded the disappearance of the count, has risen from the tomb, by the grace of God, and has revealed to me what I have told you."
At this reply, delivered in a tone of the utmost solemnity, the king arose, pale and breathless, and even Madame de Poitiers, despite her nerves of steel, could not repress a shudder of terror. At that superstitious epoch, when apparitions and ghosts were freely believed in, Gabriel's words, uttered with the conviction of truth personified, might well have had a terrifying effect upon two tormented consciences.
"Enough, enough, Monsieur!" said the king, hastily, with trembling voice; "and everything that you ask is granted. Leave us! leave us!"
"And I may set out for St. Quentin, then, within the hour, relying upon your Majesty's word?"