It was enough that the poet
knew why the marquis was in Quebec.
"You murmured a name in your sleep last night," said the Chevalier.
"What was it?"
"It sounded like 'Gabrielle'; I am not sure."
"They say that Monsieur le Marquis was a most handsome youth," Anne
remarked, when the men had disappeared round an angle.
"Then it is possible the son will make a handsome old man," was
madame's flippant rejoinder.
"Supposing, after all, you had married him?" suggested Anne, with a bit
of malice; for somehow the Chevalier's face appealed to her admiration.
"Heaven evidently had some pity for me, for that would have been a
catastrophe, indeed." Madame did not employ warm tones, and the lids
of her eyes narrowed. "Wedded to a fop, whose only thought was of
himself? That would have been even worse than Monsieur le Comte, who
was, with all his faults, a man of great courage."
"I have never heard that the Chevalier was a coward," warmly. "In
fact, in Rochelle he had the reputation of being one of the most daring
soldiers in France. And a coward would never have done what he did for
Monsieur de Saumaise.
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