THE LOVE OF MONSIEUR
he said. “Nick Rawlings and I will take our liberty together. If you will but allow me—”
There was a sound of rapid footsteps upon the walk, and three figures came into the glare of the shifting lanterns. In the colored light Mornay could dimly make out Ferrers, Heywood, and Wynne. Heywood peered forward into their faces.
“Enough of this,” he said, sternly. “Mistress Clerke, be so kind as to give your arm to Captain Ferrers. If you will but take her to the Duchess, Ferrers—”
Mistress Clerke had arisen to her feet and looked from her guardian to Monsieur Mornay, who stood at his ease, awaiting their pleasure. She opened her lips as though to speak, but the Frenchman, with an air of finality which could not be mistaken, bowed low, and then, turning coldly away, stood facing the darkness of the garden.
