ous
buffet, which stood loaded with golden dishes of fruit, vases of
flowers, and the choicest confectionery, with wine fit for a feast of
Cyprus, "you are happy to-night, are you not? But perfect bliss is only
obtained by a judicious mixture of earth and heaven: pledge me gaily now
in this golden wine, Angelique, and ask me what favor you will."

"And you will grant it?" asked she, turning her eyes upon him eagerly.

"Like the king in the fairy tale, even to my daughter and half of my
kingdom," replied he, gaily.

"Thanks for half the kingdom, Chevalier," laughed she, "but I would
prefer the father to the daughter." Angelique gave him a look of
ineffable meaning. "I do not desire a king to-night, however. Grant me
the lettre de cachet, and then--"

"And then what, Angelique?" He ventured to take her hand, which seemed
to tempt the approach of his.

"You shall have your reward. I ask you for a lettre de cachet, that is
all." She suffered her hand to remain in his.

"I cannot," he replied sharply to her urgent repetition. "Ask her
banishment from Beaumanoir, her life if you like, but a lettre de cachet
to send her to the Bastile I cannot and will not give!"

"But I ask it, nevertheless!" replied the wilful, passionate girl.
"There is no merit in your love if it fears risk or brooks denial! You
ask me to make sacrifices, and will not lift your finger to remove that
stumbling-block out of my way! A fig for such love, Chevalier Bigot! If
I were a man, there is nothing in earth, heaven, or hell I would not do
for the woman I loved!"

Angelique fixed her blazing eyes full upon him, but magnetic as was
their fire, they drew no satisfying reply. "Who in heaven's name is this
lady of Beaumanoir of whom you are so careful or so afraid?"

"I cannot tell you, Angelique," said he, quite irritated. "She may be a
runaway nun, or the wife of the man in the iron mask, or--"

"Or any other fiction you please to tell me in the stead of truth, and
which proves your love to be the greatest fiction of all!"

"Do not be so angry, Angelique," said he, soothingly, seeing the need
of calming down this impetuous spirit, which he was driving beyond all
bounds. But he had carelessly dropped a word which she picked up eagerly
and treasured in her bosom. "Her life! He said he would give me her
life! Did he mean it?" thought she, absorbed in this new idea.

Angelique had clutched the word with a feeling of terrible import. It
was not the