'
'Oh, come!' cried I, springing up and hurrying to the table. 'You
must excuse me!' I wrote Romaine's address. 'There is my
reference, Mr. Gilchrist. Until you have written to him, and
received his negative answer, I have a right to be treated, and I
shall see that you treat me, as a gentleman.' He was brought up
with a round turn at that.
'I beg your pardon, St. Ives,' said he. 'Believe me, I had no wish
to be offensive. But there's the difficulty of this affair; I
can't make any of my points without offence! You must excuse me,
it's not my fault. But, at any rate, you must see for yourself
this proposal of marriage is--is merely impossible, my dear fellow.
It's nonsense! Our countries are at war; you are a prisoner.'
'My ancestor of the time of the Ligue,' I replied, 'married a
Huguenot lady out of the Saintonge, riding two hundred miles
through an enemy's country to bring off his bride; and it was a
happy marriage.'
'Well!' he began; and then looked down into the fire, and became
silent.
'Well?' I asked.
'Well, there's this business of--Goguelat,' said he, still looking
at the coals in the grate.
'What!' I exclaimed, starting in my chair. 'What's that you say?'
'This business about Goguelat,' he repeated.
'Ronald,' said I, 'this is not your doing.
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