was bitterly vexed his thought should have been read. For a moment they faced each other, and then de Proballe with a shrug of his shoulders turned to obey. But at that instant the Duke caught sight of Gerard and Gabrielle strolling in the gardens, and frowned.
“There is no need to summon any one. I see them. You will remain with me, monsieur.”
Standing back well out of sight, the Duke watched the two lovers with intent gaze, his expression changing gradually from eager scrutiny to one of jealous anger, and the heavy frown deepened every moment, till at last he burst out into angry speech.
“God of Heaven! it is even worse than the worst I feared. See how they linger together over the flowers; how she smiles to him, and he answers.”
“He does but play his part, Duke.”
“If that be play, then never saw I earnest. And she, how her face lights as he speaks to her; her colour deepens as she droops her head at his words. See how she lays her hand tenderly on his arm; and he, how he stoops over her hand and raises it to his lips, and she—by the God that made us all, she loves him. Look at the light in her eyes.”
“He is our man, my lord, and sows but for us to reap.”
“’Twill be a bitter crop for some of us, or I am no ruler in Morvaix. ’Twas not for this we sent for him. And you say they never met till yesterday?”
“Till yesterday.”
The Duke turned from the window, and paced the room with quick angry strides, his face black as night and his eyes blazing with hot jealous rage. De Proballe watched him stealthily, wondering what this new dangerous mood portended.
“They are coming to the terrace,” he said at length; and the two watchers concealed themselves close by the open casement.
