ng Lucas. When does Monsieur return, Vigo?"

"He thought he might be back to-day. But he could not tell."

"Have you sent to tell him about me?" he asked, colouring.

"No, I couldn't do that," Vigo said. "You see, it is quite on the cards
that the Spanish gang may come hither to clean us out. I want every man
I have if they do."

"I understand that," M. Etienne said, "but--"

"So long as you are innocent a day or two matters not," Vigo
pronounced. "He will presently turn up here or send word that he will
not return till the king comes in. But since you are impatient, M. le
Comte, you can go to him at St. Denis. If _he_ can get through the gates
_you_ can."

"Aye, but I have business in Paris. I mean to join King Henry, Vigo.
There's glory going begging out there at St. Denis. It would like me
well to bear away my share. But--"

He broke off, to begin again abruptly:

"Ah, Vigo, that still tongue of yours! You knew, then, that there was
more cause of trouble between my father and me than the pistoles?"

"I knew he suspected you of a kindness for the League, monsieur. But you
are cured of that."

"There you are wrong. For I never had it, and I am not cured of it. If I
hung around the Hotel de Lorraine, it was not for politics; it was for
petticoats."

Vigo made no answer, but the corners of his grim mouth twitched.

"That's no news, either? Well, then, since you know so much, you may as
well know more. Step up, Felix, and tell your tale."

I did as I was bid, M. Etienne now and then taking the words out of my
mouth in his eagerness, Vigo listening to us both with grave attention.
I had for the second time in my career the pleasure of startling him out
of his iron composure when I told him the true name and condition of
Lucas. But at the end of the adventure all the comment he made was:

"A fool for luck."

"Well," said M. Etienne, impatiently, "is that all you have to say? What
are we to do about it?"

"Do? Why, nothing."

"Nothing?" he cried, with his hand on his sword. "Nothing? And let that
scoundrel have her?"

"That is M. de Mayenne's affair," Vigo said. "We can't help it."

"I will help it!" M. Etienne declared. "Mordieu! Am I to let that
traitor, that spy, that soul of dirt, marry Mlle. de Montluc?"

"What Mayenne wishes he'll have," Vigo said. "Some day you will surely
get a chance to fight Lucas, monsieur."

"And meantime he is to enjoy her?"

"It is a pity," Vigo admitted. "But there