on of it all had still
the power to make him laugh; was it not all a part and parcel of that
great gamble for human lives wherein he had held the winning cards
himself for so long?

"It is your turn now," he had said even then to his bitter enemy.

"Yes!" Chauvelin had replied, "our turn at last. And you will not bend
my fine English gentleman, we'll break you yet, never fear."

It was the thought of it all, of that hand to hand, will to will, spirit
to spirit struggle that lighted up his haggard face even now, gave him a
fresh zest for life, a desire to combat and to conquer in spite of all,
in spite of the odds that had martyred his body but left the mind, the
will, the power still unconquered.

He was pressing one of the papers into her hand, holding her fingers
tightly in his, and compelling her gaze with the ardent excitement of
his own.

"This first letter is for Ffoulkes," he said. "It relates to the final
measures for the safety of the Dauphin. They are my instructions to
those members of the League who are in or near Paris at the present
moment. Ffoulkes, I know, must be with you--he was not likely, God bless
his loyalty, to let you come to Paris alone. Then give this letter to
him, dear heart, at once, to-night, and tell him that it is my express
command that he and the others shall act in minute accordance with my
instructions."

"But the Dauphin surely is safe now," she urged. "Ffoulkes and the
others are here in order to help you."

"To help me, dear heart?" he interposed earnestly. "God alone can do
that now, and such of my poor wits as these devils do not succeed in
crushing out of me within the next ten days."

Ten days!

"I have waited a week, until this hour when I could place this packet in
your hands; another ten days should see the Dauphin out of France--after
that, we shall see."

"Percy," she exclaimed in an agony of horror, "you cannot endure this
another day--and live!"

"Nay!" he said in a tone that was almost insolent in its proud defiance,
"there is but little that a man cannot do an he sets his mind to it. For
the rest, 'tis in God's hands!" he added more gently. "Dear heart! you
swore that you would be brave. The Dauphin is still in France, and until
he is out of it he will not really be safe; his friends wanted to keep
him inside the country. God only knows what they still hope; had I been
free I should not have allowed him to remain so long; now those good
people at Mantes