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"Ah, Lorance!" cried a young demoiselle in a sky-coloured gown, "methinks you have indeed lost M. de Mar if he sends you no better messenger of his regrets than this horse-boy." "I have lost the gloves, that is certain and sad," Mlle. de Montluc replied, as if the loss of the wager were all her care. "I am punished for my vanity, mesdames et messieurs.
Should he ever make attempt to reach me again, and could I speak to him, I should tell him just what I have said now to you." I pressed monsieur's hand in the endeavour to bring him back to sense; he seemed about to cry out on her. But mademoiselle's earnestness had drawn all eyes. "Pshaw, Lorance! banish these tragedy airs!" Mme. de Montpensier rejoined, her lightness little touched.
"Lorance," he cried in a low, rapid voice, "I see I am out of your graces. Now, by Our Lady, what's life worth to me if you will not take me back again? I admit I have tried to ruin the Comte de Mar. Is that any marvel, since he is my rival with you?
The duke, seeing the look, suddenly raised his hands over his head, holding them there while both of us squeezed past him. "Cousin Charles," said M. Étienne, "I see that when I have married Lorance you and I shall get on capitally. Till then, God have you ever in guard." "I thank you, monsieur. You make me immortal." "I have no need to make you witty.
He leaped to his feet, crying out: "Lorance, he was the first forsworn! For he did move against me " "He told you the warning went through Félix that if you tried to reach me he would crush you as a buzzing fly. Oh, monsieur, I implored you to leave Paris! You are not kind to me, you are cruel, when you venture here." "You are cruel to me, Lorance."
"Pardieu! for all my pains I have not won her. I have skulked and evaded and temporized for nothing. I would not join the League and break my father's heart; would not stand out against it and lose Lorance. I have been trying these three years to please both the goat and the cabbage with the usual ending. I have pleased nobody. I am out of Mayenne's books: he made me overtures and I refused him.
Henri de Valois slew our Henri, and see how God dealt with him!" He looked at her fixedly; I think he heeded her words less than her shining, earnest eyes. And he said at last: "Well, you shall have your boy, Lorance." "Ah, monsieur!" With tears dimming the brightness of those sweet eyes she dropped on her knees before him, kissing his hand.
"How will you look to-morrow," he said with his unchanged smile, "if you lose all your sleep to-night, my pretty Lorance?" "A reproach to you," she answered quickly. "You will mark my white cheeks and my red eyes, and you will say, 'Now, there is my little cousin Lorance, my good ally Montluc's daughter, and I have made her cry her eyes blind over my cruelty.
All, that is, but one. Mlle. de Montluc started as the rest, but at the threshold paused to let them pass. She flung the door to behind them, and ran back to monsieur, her face drawn with terror, her hand outstretched. "Monsieur, monsieur!" she panted. "Go! you must go!" He seized her hand in both of his. "O Lorance! Lorance!" She laid her left hand on his for emphasis. "Go! go!
Cautiously I relaxed my grip, still holding him down. He appealed: "Félix, I must go. So long as there is a spark of life left in me, I have no choice but to go." "Monsieur, you said you were done with the Leaguers with M. de Mayenne." "Aye, so I did," he cried. "But this but this is Lorance."
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