ss," she answered simply.
"But will you not return to Valmy at once? Surely death does not end
all service!"

"My duty and service are to the living," replied Commines shortly. "I
shall remain in Amboise. The dead take no offence."

"You will forgive me if I speak too plainly, Monsieur d'Argenton, but
the King was so jealous and, may I add, so generous, it would vex his
ghost to think he was so soon forgotten."

"Mademoiselle, I serve France, and to-night France is in Amboise."

"Is the letter from Coictier, his doctor, Uncle?" Hitherto La Mothe
had kept silence. He agreed with Mademoiselle de Vesc, but found
himself in a difficulty. In spite of his gratitude and reverence for
Commines, in spite even of his profound belief in his shrewder, sounder
judgment, he revolted from this callous opportunism which abandoned a
dead master for a new service without the apparent compunction of a
moment. Surely the grave should first shut out all that was mortal of
the old obedience? And yet, because of that unfailing gratitude and
profound faith, he could not join with the girl in her open
condemnation. But crumpling the letter anew, Commines shook his head
as if the question was distasteful.

"No."

"From the King's son-in-law, Monsieur de Beaujeu, then? He would, of
course, send you word immediately. Or Leslie? or Saint-Pierre?"

But after each name Commines made a gesture of dissent, pushing the
paper into his pocket at the last to end the questioning.

"Not from any of these?" said mademoiselle. "Who, then, has written?
Surely the Dauphin has a right to know?"

"Tristan," answered Commines, and, turning, he looked her full in the
face.

"Tristan?" she said icily, drawing herself back with a movement which
La Mothe recognized by an unhappy experience. "You choose your friends
strangely."

"But he is no friend," protested La Mothe, full of scorn and
indignation for Commines' sake at the shame of the suggestion. "It
would be impossible with such a man. And Monsieur de Commines has told
me more than once that Tristan is jealous of his influence with the
King, and is his bitterest enemy."

"And yet out of all Valmy it is Tristan--and Tristan only--who is
friend enough to send the terrible news to Monsieur d'Argenton? Is
that not strange? Monsieur d'Argenton, you are a learned man; is there
not some proverb about distrusting the Greeks when they bring presents?"

"Tristan would never dare to spread su