Were she a man, she would have been an explorer or a
soldier.
But good judgment returned, and she gathered herself together for the
unpleasant task that lay before her.
She looked him steadily in the eyes. "I have come to tell you that you
must give up this dream," she said slowly. "It can come to nothing but
ill; and in the mishap you may be hurt past repair."
"I shall never give up--this dream," he said, surprised, but firm, almost
dominant.
"Think of these poor folk who surround you, who follow you. Would you
see harm come to them?"
"As soldiers, they will fight for a cause."
"What is--the cause?" she asked meaningly.
"France," was the quiet reply; and there was a strong ring in the tone.
"Not so--you, monsieur!"
"You called me 'sire' once," he said tentatively.
"I called my maid a fool yesterday, under some fleeting influence;
one has moods," she answered.
"If you would call me puppet to-morrow, we might strike a balance and
find--what should we find?"
"An adventurer, I fear," she remarked.
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