t," said Louis.

"Well, I'll tell you," Gaspard began; "you see, I'm a smith."

"But incapable of forging a chain strong enough to hold a woman."

"I'm not so sure," Gaspard replied. "It was a good chain."

He put out his left wrist and examined it. The steel handcuff was still
there. Up and back from it ran the chain which the smith had been
carrying over his shoulder. He hauled the chain down. He displayed the
other end of it, still ornamented by the companion bracelet.

"What happened? How did she get out of it?" queried the duke.

"She got thin," Gaspard responded with melancholy. "She didn't want me
to work. She wanted the money that I could earn. Yes. She even wanted me
to work. But it had to be her kind of work; something--something--how
shall I say it?--something that wouldn't interfere with our love."

"And you didn't love her?"

"Sure I loved her," flared the smith. "Eh--_bon Dieu_! I wouldn't have
coupled up with her if I hadn't loved her; but, also, I loved something
else. I loved my work. I'm a smith. I'm a shoer of horses, a forger of
iron, a worker in steel. I'm what the good God made me, and I've the
good God's work to do!

"So after a certain amount of honeymoon I had to get back to my forge.
Joseph the carter, his Percherons; who could shoe them but me?"

"And she didn't like that?"

"No. When I made her sit in my forge she pined and whined and refused to
eat. I was crazy. But I did my work. And this morning when I awoke I
found that she had slipped away."

"You were already enchained," said his highness, "by your work."

The smith misunderstood.

"You can see it was no trick chain," he said, holding up the chain he
himself had forged and playing with the links.

"Aye," said the duke, for he loved these philosophic disquisitions, when
he was in the mood for them. "Aye, chains are the nature of the
universe. The planets are chained. The immortal soul is chained to the
mortal body. The body itself is chained to its lusts and frailties."

"I'm a smith," said Gaspard, "and I want to work."

"We're not happy when we are chained," the duke continued to reflect
aloud. "But I doubt that we'd be happier were our chains to disappear.
No matter." He regarded Gaspard the smith with real benignancy. "At
least you've proven the fatal quality of one particular chain--the
thing I wanted to prove. And--you've saved the princess."

"'Twas of her I wanted to speak," Gaspard spoke up. "This is a good