And yet his father meanwhile might die twenty times over. The avenger was very well; but the savior was better. In his position, it was hardly more difficult to capture a town than to punish a king; but the former end was holy and glorious, the other criminal and impious: in the one case he would lose Diane de Castro forever; in the other who could say that he might not win her?
Everything that had happened since the fall of St. Quentin passed before Gabriel's eyes like a flash.
In one tenth of the time that it takes us to write all this the gallant and ever-ready heart of the young man had begun to throw off its depression. He had made a resolution, formed his plan, and thought that he could see in the distance a favorable result.
The king and his mistress marvelled, and were almost afraid, as they saw him raise once more his pallid but tranquil face.
"So be it," was all he said.
"You are resigned, are you?" asked Henri.
"I have made my decision," Gabriel replied.
"How? Explain yourself," said the king.
"Listen to me, Sire. Any attempt that I should make to put into your hands a town to pay for the one which the Spaniards have taken from you would seem to you hopeless, impossible, the act of a madman, would it not? Be frank with me, Sire, and you too, Madame,—is not this really your opinion?"
"It is true," Henri replied.