on them; he had really forfeited his own
stakes, since he had broken the rules of play. He has left me to deliver
judgment in the matter of his own lands passing into your possession.
What do you say to it, Marcel?"

It was almost with reluctance that I took up that scrap of paper. It had
been so fine and heroic a thing to have cast my wealth to the winds of
heaven for love's sake, that on my soul I was loath to see myself master
of more than Beaugency. Then a compromise suggested itself.

"The wager, Sire," said I, "is one that I take shame in having entered
upon; that shame made me eager to pay it, although fully conscious that
I had not lost. But even now, I cannot, in any case, accept the forfeit
Chatellerault was willing to suffer. Shall we--shall we forget that the
wager was ever laid?"

"The decision does you honour. It was what I had hoped from you. Go now,
Marcel. I doubt me you are eager. When your love-sickness wanes a little
we shall hope to see you at Court again."

I sighed. "Helas, Sire, that would be never."

"So you said once before, monsieur. It is a foolish spirit upon which
to enter into matrimony; yet--like many follies--a fine one. Adieu,
Marcel!"

"Adieu, Sire!"

I had kissed his hands; I had poured forth my thanks; I had reached the
door already, and he was in the act of turning to La Fosse, when it came
into my head to glance at the warrant he had given me. He noticed this
and my sudden halt.

"Is aught amiss?" he asked.

"You-you have omitted something, Sire," I ventured, and I returned
to the table. "I am already so grateful that I hesitate to ask an
additional favour. Yet it is but troubling you to add a few strokes of
the pen, and it will not materially affect the sentence itself."

He glanced at me, and his brows drew together as he sought to guess my
meaning.

"Well, man, what is it?" he demanded impatiently.

"It has occurred to me that this poor Vicomte, in a strange land, alone,
among strange faces, missing the loved ones that for so many years he
has seen daily by his side, will be pitiably lonely."

The King's glance was lifted suddenly to my face. "Must I then banish
his family as well?"

"All of it will not be necessary, Your Majesty."

For once his eyes lost their melancholy, and as hearty a burst of
laughter as ever I heard from that poor, weary gentleman he vented then.

"Ciel! what a jester you are! Ah, but I shall miss you!" he cried, as,
seizing the pen, h