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Updated: July 22, 2025
A gesture of the newcomer's arm motioned him to the door. But he had one sentence more to hear before he was suffered to slink away. "Kings, my lord," said M. de Perrencourt, "may be compelled to set spies about the persons of others. They do not need them about their own." Carford turned suddenly white, and his teeth set.
I love prophecies and I love to see them fulfilled. You see that cup there, the one that is not quite full. That cup of wine was poured out for me, the other for my friend M. de Perrencourt. I pray you, drink of my cup and let the prophecy stand fulfilled." In honest truth I began to think that the King had drunk other cups before and left them not so full.
Monmouth seemed turned to stone; I could see his face set and rigid, although light failed me to catch that look in the eyes by which you may best know a man's mood. Not a sound or a motion came from Carford. Barbara herself was stiff and still, her regard bent on M. de Perrencourt. He stood now directly over against her and Monmouth; it seemed long before he spoke.
Recalling my wandering wits and determining to play my part in the comedy, whatever it might mean, I bowed, cried "God save your Majesty," and raised the cup to my lips. As it touched them, I saw Madame hide her eyes with her hand and M. de Perrencourt lean farther across the table, while a short quick gasp of breath came from where Darrell stood by my side.
It was the cruellest chance. Why Suddenly, when I had gulped down but one good mouthful, I saw M. de Perrencourt lean right across the table. Yet I saw him dimly, for my eyes seemed to grow glazed and the room to spin round me, the figures at the table taking strange shapes and weird dim faces, and a singing sounding in my ears, as though the sea roared there and not on Dover beach.
But I do not know; and if it were honest, yet who dared trust to it? Grant Madame the best of will, where lay her power to resist M. de Perrencourt? But M. de Perrencourt was penitent. Ay, his penitence was for having let the lady go, and would last until she should be in his power again.
The King looked down and frowned; he patted his dog, he looked up again, frowning still. Then a queer smile bent his lips and he said in a voice which was most grave, for all his smile, "You remember M. de Perrencourt?" "I remember M. de Perrencourt very well, Sir." "It was by his choice, not mine, Mr Dale, that you set out for Calais." "So I understood at the time, Sir."
"Drink it to me, Mr Dale," said he. I bowed to him and put the cup to my lips. I was in the act to drink, when M. de Perrencourt spoke. "A moment, sir," he said calmly. "Have I the King's permission to tell Mr Dale a secret concerning this wine?" The Duke of York looked up with a frown, the King turned to M. de Perrencourt as if in doubt, the Frenchman met his glance and nodded.
At last she spoke a few hurried imploring words. "No, no," she panted. "No; pray leave me. No." M. de Perrencourt answered gently and beseechingly, "Nay, say 'Not yet, madame." They were silent again, he seeming to regard her intently. Suddenly she covered her face with her hands; yet, dropping her hands almost immediately, she set her eyes on his; I saw him shake his head.
"There are many ways of coming to know a thing," said I. "One is by being told; another, madame, is by finding out. Certainly it was amazing how M. de Perrencourt dealt with his Grace; ay, and with my Lord Carford, who shrank out of his path as though he had been a King." I let my tones give the last word full effect.
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