I acted on the inspiration of the moment.  “Play the man boldly!” Madame had said.  I would:  and I did with a vengeance.  I sprang forward and seizing the captain by the clasp of his cloak, shook him violently, and flung him off with all my force, so that he reeled.  “Dog!” I exclaimed, advancing, as if I would seize him again.  “Learn how to speak to your betters!  Am I to be stopped by such sweepings as you?  Hark ye, I am on the King’s service!”

He fairly spluttered with rage.  “More like the devil’s!” he exclaimed, pronouncing his words abominably, and fumbling vainly for his weapon.  “King’s service or no service you do not insult Andrea Pallavicini!”

I could only vindicate my daring by greater daring, and I saw this even as, death staring me in the face, my heart seemed to stop.  The man had his mouth open and his hand raised to give an order which would certainly have sent Anne de Caylus from the world, when I cried passionately—­it was my last chance, and I never wished to live more strongly than at that moment—­I cried passionately, “Andrea Pallavicini, if such be your name, look at that!  Look at that!” I repeated, shaking my open hand with the ring on it before his face, “and then hinder me if you dare!  To-morrow if you have quarterings enough, I will see to your quarrel!  Now send me on my way, or your fate be on your own head!  Disobey—­ay, do but hesitate—­and I will call on these very men of yours to cut you down!”

It was a bold throw, for I staked all on a talisman of which I did not know the value!  To me it was the turn of a die, for I had had no leisure to look at the ring, and knew no more than a babe whose it was.  But the venture was as happy as desperate.

Andrea Pallavicini’s expression—­no pleasant one at the best of times—­changed on the instant.  His face fell as he seized my hand, and peered at the ring long and intently.  Then he cast a quick glance of suspicion at his men, of hatred at me.  But I cared nothing for his glance, or his hatred.  I saw already that he had made up his mind to obey the charm:  and that for me was everything.  “If you had shown that to me a little earlier, young sir, it would, maybe, have been better for both of us,” he said, a surly menace in his voice.  And cursing his men for their stupidity he ordered two of them to unmoor a boat.

Apparently the craft had been secured with more care than skill, for to loosen it seemed to be a work of time.  Meanwhile I stood waiting in the midst of the group, anxious and yet exultant; an object of curiosity, and yet curious myself.  I heard the guards whisper together, and caught such phrases as “It is the Duc d’Aumale.”

“No, it is not D’Aumale.  It is nothing like him.”

“Well, he has the Duke’s ring, fool!”

“The Duke’s?”

“Ay.”

“Then it is all right, God bless him!” This last was uttered with extreme fervour.