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The King watched her disappear, the meditative line of sadness still puckering his brow, then, followed by his equerry, he entered a small private audience chamber, where Sir Roger de Launay notified an attendant gentleman usher that his Majesty was ready to receive Monsignor Del Fortis.
Seemed to have a gnawin' ambition to coil around all the bootleg liquor there is, though. Outside o' that, he was all right." "De Launay? French name, I reckon." "Yeah, I reckon he'd been a soldier in the French army. Got the idea, somehow." "Well, he's gone and I reckon it's as well. He won't be botherin' the little lady no more. What does she wear a veil for? Been marked any?"
A couple of uniformed policemen threw themselves into the mêlée. De Launay saw only the uniforms. His wrath surged up. What were policemen doing in this country of range and sheriffs? What had they to do with the West? They stood for all that had come to the country, all the change and innovation that he hated.
Solange shook her head in protest, but just behind her she heard a low laugh from De Launay. "But, mon brave," said he, "you would find this one a tough swine to carve!" The Breton stared at him like a sullen and dangerous bull and moved away, saying no more. But Solange felt cheered. There were some who regarded her ahead of this soldier of fortune whom she had hired to masquerade as her husband.
De Launay gazed down upon the fire, and his face was bitter as though he tasted death. Solange slowly reached behind her again and dropped the heavy weapon upon the log. Then, in a choked voice she struggled to call out: "Monsieur Wallace! Will you come?" In the next room there was a stirring of hasty movements. Sucatash raised a cheery and incongruous voice. "Just a minute, mad'mo'selle!
In the course of his troublesome reflections concerning the Gochard paper, Vaudrey persistently thought of that fat, powerful man who laughed and harangued in a loud voice in the greenroom of the ballet, as he patted with his fat fingers the delicate chin of Marie Launay. Why! if he were willing, this Molina Molina the Tumbler! for him it is a mere bagatelle, a hundred thousand francs!
"They have hurt you?" she said, sharply. De Launay took hold of himself again. "Nothing to speak of," he answered, gruffly. "Will you sit down?" She sat down, then. Through her veil he could not tell what her expression was, but he was uneasily conscious of the black pools that lurked there, searching his scarred soul to its depths, and finding it evil.
When an account came to be drawn up, it was found that not a hundred people were upon the list of Launay, the goldsmith; and the total product of the gift did not amount to three millions. I confess that I was very late in sending any plate. When I found that I was almost the only one of my rank using silver, I sent plate to the value of a thousand pistoles to the Mint, and locked up the rest.
And this he could do for two reasons; he pursued it quietly, and the king felt a little fear of him. Moreover, the king did not discover how much he owed to him for the thwarting of his plans. Else, powerful noble though he was, Lord De Launay would have been punished. Meanwhile, Hugo and Humphrey were making the best of their way, and stopping not to look to the right hand nor to the left.
Solange still sat desolately on the log. Finally Sucatash came to her and assisted her to rise. He led her to her horse and held the stirrup for her as she swung to the saddle. He was about to mount himself when De Launay caught his eye. Instead, he stepped to the soldier's side. "Take this," said De Launay, holding out the envelope. "Give it to her to-morrow.
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