ame desire, to win the other to his own way of
thinking, but it was the more cautious elder who spoke first. He would
appeal to the very affection Villon had gibed at.

"Stephen, dear lad, with all my heart I grieve for you. Would to God
it were anything but this. Mademoiselle de Vesc has always opposed me,
but that is nothing; has always striven to thwart me, but for your sake
that could be forgotten; has always flouted and belittled me, but for
your sake that could be forgiven. You are as the son of my love, and
what is there that love will not forgive--will not forget? These weigh
nothing, nothing at all. In the face of this--this--tremendous crime
against the King, against all France, I count them nothing, less than
nothing. Dear lad, you must be brave. This worthless woman----"

"No, Uncle, no, not that, never that!" La Mothe's voice was as level
and quiet as Commines' own, and the elder knew thereby that his
difficulty was the greater. Quietness is always strong, always assured
of itself. "I do not believe Saxe speaks the truth."

"Saxe is the spark, and I told you I smelt smoke. Even Villon admits,
much against his will, that some one has approached Saxe."

"But not Hugues, and if that is untrue then all is untrue."

"No: there is no logic in that. Hugues or another, it matters little
who it was. It is the fact that damns, and Saxe is explicit. And how
can Villon be sure it was not Hugues?"

"Uncle, Uncle, you can't believe it, in your heart you can't believe
it. All these days you have seen her, so gracious, so gentle, so
womanly. It can't be true, it can't. There is some horrible mistake."

"Saxe is explicit, and Villon agrees with him," repeated Commines,
driving home the inexorable point. "Nor can I help myself; the King
has left me no alternative."

"Mademoiselle de Vesc has denied it to me, and I believe her."

"You believe her because you love her."

"No," answered La Mothe simply, "I believe her because I have faith in
her, but even though she were all Saxe says, and more, I would stand by
her because I love her."

Commines paused in his slow walk, slipped his hand from La Mothe's arm,
and they stood silent side by side. Then in his perplexity he moved a
few paces away, halted, turned again and faced La Mothe.

"Poor lad, and I have no alternative. The King and my duty alike allow
me none. Stephen, in self-defence I must be frank with you. It is my
firm belief that the