I could see that to be checked, thwarted, made to feel of no account, here in the place where by virtue of her birth and beauty she had held undisputed sway, was galling to her pride beyond endurance. I could see it, I say, and I rejoiced in the knowledge.
“Your parole, monsieur!” I said once more, turning to the marquis.
“Since I have no choice in the matter,” he answered testily, “you have it. On the honour of a De Launay!” he added proudly.
I bowed.
“That is sufficient, monsieur,” I replied. “But pardon me,” I continued lightly; “you say that you have no choice in the matter. On the contrary, there is another alternative. I am offering you the treatment of a gentleman; if you prefer it, however, you may go bound to a horse like any common felon.”
He looked at me very sourly, but he did not speak. Instead, he unbuckled his sword and threw it with an ill grace upon the floor, and at a sign from me, a trooper stepped forward and picked it up. I glanced at my lady with, I doubt not, some of the triumph I felt showing in my eyes. I was so completely the master of the situation.
“Believe me, monsieur,” I said, “I take but the precaution that my warrant enjoins. You may read it for yourself if you so desire.”
“It is of no consequence,” he answered with a wave of the hand.
“But it is of consequence to me, monsieur!” my lady cried wrathfully. “I am the mistress of this house and the guardian of all pertaining to its honour. Show me this warrant, if indeed you have one!” she added, turning suddenly upon me.
I sheathed my sword, and with flushed face and trembling fingers I drew the paper from my breast and held it out to her. But she stepped backwards with such a look of proud disdain upon her lovely face that my hand dropped involuntarily to my side. For a moment she stood thus, searching my eyes and enjoying, perhaps, my confusion, for I saw that she would not take it from my hand; then she motioned to the steward who stood near.