"My dearest, my dearest," murmured Gabrielle. "I am so sorry."
"No, Gabrielle, we will not grieve, we will act. Together we will plan and save your lover, be he true man or false: for false a man may always be."
"Not Gerard. Never!"
"In God's mercy we will hope not, for your sweet sake. For though he be true as steel, yet is he in a sorry plight; and we, you and I together, sweetheart, will save him. We must first get him out of the Castle and the task may test our wits. Think, child, think; don't waste time in useless repinings over the inevitable. We have work to do."
"I knew I could rely on you," said Gabrielle.
"First we must find out where they have bestowed him. Pauline can do this. She is old Pierre's daughter—you know how together we saved her from ruin—and she will serve us both to the death; and so too will her father. Call her, and she will be at hand."
Gabrielle hastened away to return in a minute with the maid.
"Pauline, we are going to trust you," said the Duchess. "You will be faithful, I know; and will do what we need cleverly and secretly—for Mademoiselle de Malincourt's sake as well as mine."
"With all my heart, miladi," answered the girl, a bright-eyed shrewd brunette.
"There has been an arrest in the Castle, within the past hour or so, of a M. de Cobalt. Go and find out where he has been bestowed. Your father can tell you. No one else must know that I have even asked. And be quick."
"You give me hope already," said Gabrielle, as the girl left.
"I will do more than that; child, I will give you your lover. I am feeble and bedridden, but not yet helpless.
