He could not, he wrote, permit
his heirs to enjoy your estates; he had not won them; he had really
forfeited his own stakes, since he had broken the rules of play.
He has left me to deliver judgment in the matter of his own lands
passing into your possession. What do you say to it, Marcel?"
It was almost with reluctance that I took up that scrap of paper.
It had been so fine and heroic a thing to have cast my wealth to
the winds of heaven for love's sake, that on my soul I was loath
to see myself master of more than Beaugency. Then a compromise
suggested itself.
"The wager, Sire," said I, "is one that I take shame in having
entered upon; that shame made me eager to pay it, although fully
conscious that I had not lost. But even now, I cannot, in any case,
accept the forfeit Chatellerault was willing to suffer. Shall we
--shall we forget that the wager was ever laid?"
"The decision does you honour. It was what I had hoped from you.
Go now, Marcel. I doubt me you are eager. When your love-sickness
wanes a little we shall hope to see you at Court again."
I sighed. "Helas, Sire, that would be never."
"So you said once before, monsieur. It is a foolish spirit upon
which to enter into matrimony; yet - like many follies - a fine
one. Adieu, Marcel!"
"Adieu, Sire!"
I had kissed his hands; I had poured forth my thanks; I had reached
the door already, and he was in the act of turning to La Fosse,
when it came into my head to glance at the warrant he had given me.
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