of this weak-kneed supporter, yet unable to withhold his
admiration from it. At length he stopped, with a low exclamation.

"Wait!" he cried. "I have it! _Ventre Saint Gris_, man, I have it!" His
eyes sparkled, and, with a gentle laugh, he hit the table a sounding
blow. "Ha! ha! I have it!" he repeated gaily.

The young noble gazed at him in surprise, half suspicious, half
incredulous. But when Henry in low, rapid tones had expounded his plan,
the young man's face underwent a change. Hope and life sprang into it.
The blood flew to his cheeks. His whole aspect softened. In a moment he
was on his knee, mumbling the prince's hand, his eyes moist with
gratitude. Nor was that all; the two talked long, the murmur of their
voices broken more than once by the ripple of laughter. When they at
length separated, and Henry, his face hidden by the folds of his cloak,
had stolen to his lodgings, where, no doubt, more than one watcher was
awaiting him with a mind full of anxious fears, the Vicomte threw open
his window and looked out on the night. The moon had set, but the stars
still shone peacefully in the dark canopy above. He remembered, his
throat choking with silent emotion, that he was looking towards his
home--the round towers among the walnut woods of Navarre which had been
in his family since the days of St. Louis, and which he had so lightly
risked. And he registered a vow in his heart that of all Henry's
servants he would henceforth be the most faithful.

Meanwhile the Captain of Creance was enjoying the sweets of his coming
triumph. He did not look out into the night, it is true--he was over old
for sentiment--but pacing up and down the room he planned and
calculated, considering how he might make the most of his success. He
was still comparatively young. He had years of strength before him. He
would rise high and higher. He would not easily be satisfied. The times
were troubled, opportunities were many, fools not few; bold men with
brains and hands were rare.

At the same time he knew that he could be sure of nothing until Lusigny
was actually in his possession; and he spent the next few days in
painful suspense. But no hitch occurred nor seemed likely. The Vicomte
made him the necessary communications; and men in his own pay informed
him of dispositions ordered by the governor of Lusigny which left him in
no doubt that the loser intended to pay his debt.

It was, therefore, with a heart already gay with anticipatio