“Mademoiselle,” I cried, “for God’s sake acquit me of any such dishonor!”
“I do, Monsieur, freely.”
“I shall go back to du Trémigon and explain my appearance to him immediately. I shall compel him to give me satisfaction for this insult—an insult to you as well as to me. Your quarrel with him shall be mine. He will trouble you no more,” I added significantly.
“Your plan is vain, Monsieur. I know the Marquis du Trémigon. You will find him surrounded by such a force as will paralyze your efforts. He will refuse to fight with you.”
“At least I shall have the satisfaction of telling him what I think, and I shall go to prison if necessary.”
“I would not have you suffer on my account, Monsieur.”
“Mademoiselle, you are kindness itself. I deserve nothing whatever at your hands. If you could only believe in me, in my love for you, a little before I go——”
“Monsieur, the circumstances are very unusual. That day you so bravely rescued me from those scoundrels and treated me with such chivalry, I knew you were not of the common people. Your dress indicated that, but my heart—my mind, that is—told me otherwise.”
Her voice faltered, but she looked at me clearly with those glorious eyes of hers.