"But still your servant, mademoiselle," was all that I could say.
Blaise vented a great breath of relief. "I feel better now," he said, heartily, and he turned with a beaming countenance to the maid, who looked at his stalwart form and promptly revised her opinion of him. The two were soon in conversation together, at the fireplace, and I was left to complete explanations with the lady, who did not attempt the coquetry of replacing her mask.
"Our secret is yours, mademoiselle, and our safety is in your hands."
"Your secret is safe, monsieur," she said, modestly averting her eyes from my frankly admiring look. "And now I understand why it was you who drew sword."
"A privilege too precious to be resigned," I answered in a low tone, "even for the sake of my secret and my safety."
My words were spoken so tenderly that she sought relief from her charming embarrassment by taking up my sword from the table, and saying, with a smile:
"I have you in my power, monsieur, follower of the King of Navarre! What if I were minded, on behalf of the governor of this province, to make you a prisoner?"
"My faith!" I could only reply, "you need no sword to make prisoners of men."
"You hope to purchase your freedom with a compliment," she said, continuing the jest; "but you cannot close my eyes with flattery."
"It would be a crime beyond me to close eyes so beautiful!"