The words were simple enough, but the tone told La Pommeraye that there was a world of meaning in them. If he could be ready with the sword he could be equally ready with the tongue.
"Sieur de Roberval," he said, meeting the nobleman's eyes with a frank, straightforward gaze, "I am not dull-witted. I see that you have read the meaning of my action, and even though it call down your anger on my head, I will confess myself to you. Your niece was the cause of my walking past and rudely staring at your windows. I love her, and unless some more favoured suitor has already won her heart, I have vowed to prove myself worthy of her hand, if God wills it."
"Silence!" almost shouted De Roberval. "If God wills it a thousand times, it shall never be. I will oppose it. But why waste words?" he added in a quieter tone. "My niece would spurn you as she would one of Cartier's savages."
"At first, I have no doubt," returned Charles with great suavity. "But, as you say, we waste words. We are met to consult on a great undertaking, and I have told you my intentions that there may be no double-dealing between us. You know me, and you know what I have resolved to do, and if you should not wish to have me join you in this enterprise you can exclude me now. There is plenty of work, or will be soon, for my sword in France, without my taking it to a land where it will only rust in the scabbard."
Before De Roberval could make any reply, a heavy knock resounded through the house, and Cartier's voice was heard enquiring of Jean: "Is your master within?"
"Ay, that he is, Monsieur, but I doubt if he will receive you. Either the Emperor or our beloved King Francis is with him."
"What makes you think that, honest Jean?" said De Pontbriand's voice.
"Why," replied the old servant, "he spoke back to my master! I heard him with my own ears, and I thought that even the King himself would not do that."
"Well, Jean, he has promised to meet with us to-night; so, King or no King, show us to his room."
Not waiting for an answer they pushed towards the door of Roberval's room, which stood slightly ajar. Before they could knock De Roberval threw it open, exclaiming as he did so: "Welcome to our conference."