Michel and Angele | Page 5

almost to the rank of a man in his own eyes; and he had the

tolerance of the open-hearted and open- handed man. All these things
were as much a compliment to her as though she were not a despised
Huguenot, an exiled lady of no fortune. She looked at him a moment
with an almost solemn intensity, so that he shifted his ground uneasily,
but at once smiled encouragingly, to relieve her embarrassment at the
unexpected honour done her. She had remained standing; now, as he
made a step towards her, she sank down upon the seat, and waved him
back courteously.
"A moment, Monsieur of Rozel," she ventured. "Did my father send
you to me?"
He inclined his head and smiled again.
"Did you say to him what you have said to me?" she asked, not quite
without a touch of malice.
"I left out about the colour in the cheek," he answered, with a smirk at
what he took to be the quickness of his wit.
"You kept your paint-pot for me," she replied softly.
"And the dove-cote, too," he rejoined, bowing finely, and almost
carried off his feet by his own brilliance. She became serious at
once--so quickly that he was ill prepared for it, and could do little but
stare and pluck at the tassel of his sword; for he was embarrassed
before this maiden, who changed as quickly as the currents change
under the brow of the Couperon Cliff, behind which lay his
manor-house of Rozel.
"I have visited at your manor, Monsieur of Rozel. I have seen the state
in which you live, your retainers, your men-at-arms, your farming-folk,
and your sailormen. I know how your Queen receives you; how your
honour is as stable as your fief."
He drew himself up again proudly. He could understand this speech.
"Your horses and your hounds I have seen," she added, "your

men-servants and your maid-servants, your fields of corn, your
orchards, and your larder. I have sometimes broken the Commandment
and coveted them and envied you."
"Break the Commandment again, for the last time," he cried, delighted
and boisterous. "Let us not waste words, lady. Let's kiss and have it
over."
Her eyes flashed. "I coveted them and envied you; but then, I am but a
vain girl at times, and vanity is easier to me than humbleness."
"Blood of man, but I cannot understand so various a creature!" he broke
in, again puzzled.
"There is a little chapel in the dell beside your manor, Monsieur. If you
will go there, and get upon your knees, and pray till the candles no
more burn, and the Popish images crumble in their places, you will yet
never understand myself or any woman."
"There's no question of Popish images between us," he answered,
vainly trying for foothold. "Pray as you please, and I'll see no harm
comes to the Mistress of Rozel."
He was out of his bearings and impatient. Religion to him was a dull
recreation invented chiefly for women. She became plain enough now.
"'Tis no images nor religion that stands between us," she answered,
"though they might well do so. It is that I do not love you, Monsieur of
Rozel."
His face, which had slowly clouded, suddenly cleared. "Love! Love!"
He laughed good-humouredly. "Love comes, I'm told, with marriage.
But we can do well enough without fugling on that pipe. Come, come,
dost think I'm not a proper man and a gentleman? Dost think I'll not use
thee well and 'fend thee, Huguenot though thou art, 'gainst trouble or
fret or any man's persecutions--be he my Lord Bishop, my Lord
Chancellor, or King of France, or any other?"
She came a step closer to him, even as though she would lay a hand

upon his arm. "I believe that you would do all that in you lay," she
answered steadily. "Yours is a rough wooing, but it is honest--"
"Rough! Rough!" he protested, for he thought he had behaved like
some Adonis. Was it not ten years only since he had been at Court!
"Be assured, Monsieur, that I know how to prize the man who speaks
after the light given him. I know that you are a brave and valorous
gentleman. I must thank you most truly and heartily, but, Monsieur,
you and yours are not for me. Seek elsewhere, among your own people,
in your own religion and language and position, the Mistress of Rozel."
He was dumfounded. Now he comprehended the plain fact that he had
been declined.
"You send me packing!" he blurted out, getting red in the face.
"Ah, no! Say it is my misfortune that I cannot give myself the great
honour," she said; in her tone a little disdainful dryness, a little pity, a
little feeling that here