Nevertheless he smiled his sweet, careless smile, and swept back his curls with his hand.
"If I am to die, a fellow may as well do it with some grace," he murmured; "I wish I had been more fit--if only Claire had had the time to make me a better man!"
Yet it is to be feared that even in that moment the Abbé John thought more of the process (as outlined in his mind with Claire as instructress) than of the very desirable result.
What the thoughts of Valentine la Niña were when she left the presence of her uncle could hardly be defined even to her own mind. But seeing this young man so easy, so debonair in spite of his dishevelled appearance, the girl only held out her left hand. A faint smile, like the sun breaking momentarily through the thunder-clouds, appeared on her lips.
"I was wrong," she said; "let me help you only--I ask no more. Come!"
And without another word she led him into a narrow passage, between two high walls. They passed door after door, all closed, one of them being the chamber of Mariana, in which he sat like a spider spinning webs for the Society of the Gesù. What might have happened if that door had been suddenly opened in their faces also remains a mystery. For Valentine's arm was strong, and the dagger her hand held was sharp.
However, as it chanced, the doors remained shut, so that when they came to a little wicket, of solid iron like all the rest, the steel blade of the dagger still shone bright.
Then Valentine la Niña snatched from a nail the long black mantle, with which any who left the House of the Holy Office by that door concealed from the curious their rank or errand. She flung it about John d'Albret's shoulders with a single movement of her arm.
"I do what I can," she said, "yield me the justice to allow that. I am giving you a chance to return to her. There--take it--now you are armed!"
She gave him the knife, and the sheath from which she had drawn it in her uncle's bureau.
"And now, bid me farewell--no thanks--I do not want them! You will not, I know, forget me, and I only ask you to pray that I may be able to forget you!"
The Abbé John stooped to kiss her hand, but she snatched it behind her quickly.
"I think I deserve so much," she said softly, holding up her face, "not even she would deny me!"