‘Time is everything,’ said her father; ’delay will be our ruin.  Your inheritance will slip through your fingers, my son.  The youth will soon win favour by abjuring his heresy; he will play the same game with the King as his father did with King Henri.  You will have nothing but your sword, and for you, my poor girl, there is nothing but to throw yourself on the kindness of your aunt at Bellaise, if she can receive the vows of a dowerless maiden.’

‘It will never be,’ said Narcisse.  ’My rapier will soon dispose of a big rustic like that, who knows just enough of fencing to make him an easy prey.  What!  I verily believe the great of entreaty.  ’And yet the fine fellow was willing enough to break the marriage when he took her for the bride.’

‘Nay, my son,’ argued the Chevalier, will apparently to spare his daughter from the sting of mortification, ’as I said, all can be done without danger of bloodshed on either side, were we but aware of any renewed project of elopement.  The pretty pair would be easily waylaid, the girl safely lodged at Bellaise, the boy sent off to digest his pride in England.’

‘Unhurt?’ murmured Diane.

Her father checked Narcisse’s mockery at her solicitude, as he added, ’Unhurt?  Yes.  He is a liberal-hearted, gracious, fine young man, whom I should much grieve to harm; but if you know of any plan of elopement and conceal it, my daughter, then upon you will lie either the ruin and disgrace of your family, or the death of one or both of the youths.’

Diane saw that her question had betrayed her knowledge.  She spoke faintly.  ’Something I did overhear, but I know not how to utter a treason.’

‘There is no treason where there is no trust, daughter,’ said the Chevalier, in the tone of a moral sage.  ‘Speak!’

Diane never disobeyed her father, and faltered, ’Wednesday; it is for Wednesday.  They mean to leave the palace in the midst of the masque; there is a market-boat from Leurre to meet them on the river; his servants will be in it.’

‘On Wednesday!’ Father and son looked at each other.

‘That shall be remedied,’ said Narcisse.

‘Child,’ added her father, turning kindly to Diane, ’you have saved our fortunes.  There is put one thing more that you must do.  Make her obtain the pearls from him.’

‘Ah!’ sighed Diane, half shocked, half revengeful, as she thought how he had withheld them from her.

‘It is necessary,’ said the Chevalier.  ’The heirloom of our house must not be risked.  Secure the pearls, child, and you will have done good service, and earned the marriage that shall reward you.’

When he was gone, Diane pressed her hands together with a strange sense of misery.  He, who had shrunk from the memory of little Diane’s untruthfulness, what would he think of the present Diane’s treachery?  Yet it was to save his life and that of her brother—­ and for the assertion of her victory over the little robber, Eustacie.