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Yeux-gris said at once to me: "This Lucas, as I told you, is too cowardly to meet my cousin in open fight. Since he got the challenge he has never stuck his nose out of doors without two or three of the duke's guard about him. Therefore we have the right to get at him as we can. We have paid a man in the house to tell of his movements.

"Now that is well said, Gervais," returned Yeux-gris, rising, and picking up his sword, which he sheathed. "That is very well said. For if you did not feel like promising it, why, I should have to begin over again with my left hand." "Oh, I give you the boy," Gervais repeated rather sullenly, turning away to pour himself some wine.

I saw, without looking, Grammont leaning against the wall, his gory face ashen, and Yeux-gris watching me with all his soul, now and then shouting a word of advice. I had had good training, and I fought for all there was in me. Yet I was a boy not come to my full strength, and Lucas was more than my match. He drove me back farther and farther toward the house-wall.

I owe him no allegiance. Moreover, he nearly killed me this morning. Therefore I am quite at your disposal." "Now, I wonder if you are lying," said Gervais. "I do not think he is lying," Yeux-gris said. "I trow, Gervais, we have got our messenger." "You tell me to beware of Pontou because he hates me, and then would have me trust this fellow?" Gervais demanded with some acumen.

"Then speak." But I could not do it. Though I knew Yeux-gris for a villain, yet he had saved my life. "Monsieur, I cannot." The duke cried out: "This to me!" There was a silence. I stood with hanging head, the picture of a shame-faced knave. Shame so filled me that I could not look up to meet Monsieur's sentence.

Then there was the opportunity, man to man. If it were Grammont or the lackey, I would boldly declare that I would give my news to none but Yeux-gris. In pursuance of this plan I was pounding vigorously on the door when a voice behind me cried out blithely: "So you are back at last, Félix Broux" At the first word I wheeled around. In the court entrance stood Yeux-gris, smiling and debonair.

He could not push past me into the house and so through to the other street. He made for the alley, crying out: "Au revoir, messieurs! We shall meet again." Grammont seized him. "Help me, Lucas, for the love of Christ! Don't leave me, Lucas!" Lucas beat him off with the sword. "Every man for himself!" he cried, and sprang down the alley. "It is not the duke," I said to Yeux-gris.

He was no traitor; he was no coward; he was no liar. I think he is not those now." Gervais was still doubtful. "It is a risk. If he betrays " "What is life without risks?" cried Yeux-gris. "I thought you too good a gambler, Gervais, to falter before a risk." "Well," Gervais consented, "I leave it to you. Do as you like."

I prayed to the good God to let me kill Yeux-gris, prayed, kneeling there on the cobbles, with a fervour I had never reached before. When I rose I ran on at redoubled speed, never doubting that a just God would strengthen my hand, would make my cause his. I entered the little court. The shutter was fastened, as before, but I had my dagger, and could again free the bolt.

But I was born on the duke's land and I cannot be disloyal. You may kill me yourself, if you like." "No," he answered gravely, "that is not my métier." Gervais laughed. "Make me that offer, and I accept." Yeux-gris turned to him with that little hauteur he assumed occasionally. "You are helpless, my cousin. You have passed your word." "Aye. I leave him to you."