"
"And so," answered the voice of Chatellerault, in tones that were
perfectly colourless, "you come to me that I may present you
to his Majesty?"
"You have guessed it, Monsieur le Comte. You are the only gentleman
of His Majesty's suite, with whom I can claim acquaintance - however
slight - and, moreover, it is well known how high you stand in his
royal favour. I was told that they that have a boon to crave can
find no better sponsor."
"Had you gone to the King, mademoiselle," said he, "had you gained
audience, he would have directed you to make your appeal to me. I am
his Commissioner in Languedoc, and the prisoners attainted with high
treason are my property."
"Why then, monsieur," she cried in an eager voice, that set my pulses
throbbing, "you'll not deny me the boon I crave? You'll not deny me
his life?"
There was a short laugh from Chatellerault, and I could hear the
deliberate fall of his feet as he paced the chamber.
"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle, you must not overrate my powers. You
must not forget that I am the slave of Justice. You may be asking
more than is in my power to grant. What can you advance to show
that I should be justified in proceeding as you wish?"
"Helas, monsieur, I can advance nothing but my prayers and the
assurance that a hideous mistake is being made."
"What is your interest in this Monsieur de Lesperon?"
"He is not Monsieur de Lesperon," she cried.
"But, since you cannot tell me who he is, you must be content that
we speak of him at least as Lesperon," said he, and I could imagine
the evil grin with which he would accompany the words.
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