ffice in France? There is no rack or
torture perhaps, no Place of Eyes. But was Henry of Valois safe, who
slew the Duke of Guise? From whose bosom came forth Jacques Clement? My
uncle put the knife in his hand and blessed him ere he went. For me he
would do more. Think--this Claire of yours is condemned already. She is
young. By your own telling she has many lovers. She will be happy. I
know the heart of such maids. Besides, she has never promised you
anything--never humbled herself to you as I--I, Valentine la Nina, who
till now have been the proudest maid in Spain!"

"I am not worthy," cried the Abbe John. "I cannot; I dare not; I will
not!"

"Ah," said Valentine la Nina, with a long rising inflection, and drawing
herself back from him, "I have found it ever so with you heretics. You
are willing to die--to suffer. Because then you would wear the martyr's
crown, and have your name commemorated--in books, on tablets, and be
lauded by the outcasts of Geneva. But for your own living folk you will
do nothing. With all Roussillon, from Salses to the Pyrenees, for my
dowry (Philip would be glad to be rid of it--and perhaps also of me--my
friends of the Society are too strong for him), there would be an end to
this prisoning and burning and torturing through the land. Teruel and
Frey Tullio we would send to their own place. By a word you could save
thousands. Yet you will not. You think only of one chit of a girl, who
laughs at you, who cares not the snap of her finger for you!"

She stopped, panting with her own vehemence.

"Likely enough," said the Abbe John, "the more is the pity. But that
cannot change my heart."

"Was her love for you like mine?" she cried; "did she love you from the
first moment she saw you? NO! Has she done for you what I have
done--risked my all--my uncle's anger--the Society's--that of the Holy
Office even? No!--No!--_No!_ She has done none of these things. She has
only graciously permitted you to serve her on your knees--she, the
daughter of a spy, a common go-between of your Huguenot and heretic
princes! Shame on you, Jean d'Albret of Bourbon, you, a cousin of the
King of France, thus to give yourself up to fanatics and haters of
religion."

But by this time the Abbe John was completely master of himself. He
could carry forward the interview much more successfully on these lines.

"I am no Huguenot," he said calmly, "more is the pity, indeed. I have no
claim to be zealous for any religion.