And with a look which was a fit commentary to her words, Diane reminded Henri of the great danger of allowing the old Comte de Montgommery and his secret to rise from the tomb.
But Gabriel, making a last effort, stretched out his hands to the king, and cried,—
"Sire, it is to you—to your sense of right, to your kind heart—that I appeal. Sire, hereafter, aided by time and circumstance, I bind myself to win back a town for my country, or to die in the attempt. But meanwhile, Sire, for very pity's sake, let me see my father!"
Henri, taking counsel from the penetrating gaze of Diane and her whole demeanor, responded, steadying his voice,—
"Keep your promise to the end, Monsieur; and I swear before God that then, and then only, will I fulfil mine. My word is worth as much as yours."
"That is your last word, Sire?" asked Gabriel.
"That is my last word."
Gabriel bent his head for a moment, overwhelmed and vanquished, and altogether beside himself from his fearful repulse.
In one moment he revolved in his mind a whole world of thoughts.
He would be revenged upon the ungrateful king and his perfidious favorite; he would throw in his lot with those of the Reformed religion; he would accomplish the destiny of the Montgommeries; he would strike Henri a mortal blow, even as Henri had struck the old count; he would cause Diane de Poitiers to be banished from court in disgrace, and bereft of all her honors. Henceforth that should be the one aim of his will and his life; and far removed and impossible as its accomplishment might seem to be for a simple gentleman, he would find a way to accomplish it.