“I don’t know whom you mean.”

“You don’t know?  Well, I shall commission the king’s treasurer, Jeannin de Castille, to come here to-morrow and tell you, an hour before our duel.”

“Oh no! no!  Promise me you will not do that!” cried she, clasping her hands.

“Adieu, madame.”

“Do not leave me thus!  I cannot let you go till you give me your promise!”

She threw herself on her knees and clung with both her hands to de Jars’ cloak, and appealing to Chevalier de Moranges, said—­

“You are young, monsieur; I have never done you any harm; protect me, have pity on me, help me to soften him!”

“Uncle,” said the chevalier in a pleading tone, “be generous, and don’t drive this woman to despair.”

“Prayers are useless!” answered the commander.

“What do you want me to do?” said Angelique.  “Shall I go into a convent to atone?  I am ready to go.  Shall I promise never to see him again?  For God’s sake, give me a little time; put off your vengeance for one single day!  To-morrow evening, I swear to you, you will have nothing more to fear from me.  I thought myself forgotten by you and abandoned; and how should I think otherwise?  You left me without a word of farewell, you stayed away and never sent me a line!  And how do you know that I did not weep when you deserted me, leaving me to pass my days in monotonous solitude?  How do you know that I did not make every effort to find out why you were so long absent from my side?  You say you had left town but how was I to know that?  Oh! promise me, if you love me, to give up this duel!  Promise me not to seek that man out to-morrow!”

The poor creature hoped to work wonders with her eloquence, her tears, her pleading glances.  On hearing her prayer for a reprieve of twenty-four hours, swearing that after that she would never see Jeannin again, the commander and the chevalier were obliged to bite their lips to keep from laughing outright.  But the former soon regained his self-possession, and while Angelique, still on her knees before him, pressed his hands to her bosom, he forced her to raise her head, and looking straight into her eyes, said—­

“To-morrow, madame, if not this evening, he shall know everything, and a meeting shall take place.”

Then pushing her away, he strode towards the door.

“Oh! how unhappy I am!” exclaimed Angelique.

She tried to rise and rush after him, but whether she was really overcome by her feelings, or whether she felt the one chance of prevailing left her was to faint, she uttered a heartrending cry, and the chevalier had no choice but to support her sinking form.

De Jars, on seeing his nephew staggering under this burden, gave a loud laugh, and hurried away.  Two minutes later he was once more at the tavern in the rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts.

“How’s this?  Alone?” said Jeannin.