"Pardon me, Monseigneur, but who told you that?" asked Gabriel.
"Why, your very silence, my dear fellow. The time has come when our secret allies ought to come to our assistance, in which event they might perhaps save us. They give no sign, and your lips are sealed; therefore I conclude that you no longer rely upon them, and that we must renounce all hope of succor from that quarter."
"If you knew me better, Monseigneur," was Gabriel's response, "you would know that I never like to talk when I can act."
"What's that? Do you still have hopes?" asked the Duc de Guise.
"Yes, Monseigneur, since I am still living," Gabriel replied, in a grave and melancholy tone.
"And the Risbank fort?"
"Shall be in your hands when necessary, unless I am dead."
"But, Gabriel, it will be necessary to-morrow,—to-morrow morning!"
"Then we shall have it to-morrow morning!" replied Gabriel, calmly,—"that is, I say again, unless I fall; but in that event you cannot reproach one who has given his life in the attempt for his failure to keep his word."
"Gabriel," said the Duc de Guise, "what is it that you have in mind to do? Is it to face some mortal peril or to hazard some insane chance? I do not wish it; I do not wish it! France is only too much in need of such men as you."