swear on my soul that all this charge passes me by as an idle breeze. You will never have cause to regret your sweet trust. That on my honour."
"Why have they made these charges? I am so sorely perplexed."
"It will all appear in time, Gabrielle. There is dark and evil work behind, and I am resolved to drag it to the light of day."
"But when? They tell me you are going away again! Ah, Gerard, my heart fell at the news."
"'Tis but one more falsehood. Only one thing can drive me from Morvaix—your own sentence."
"Yet they urged me to counsel you to go, saying that if you stay here you will be imprisoned. What is this affair at Cambrai which they call by the fell name of murder? Do not let my question anger you; but if there be really danger, you must fly."
"The Governor would have me fly that you may be driven to deem me the guilty wretch he describes me. There is no danger to me, but rather to them; to the Governor himself indeed most of all."
"What would you do? No deed of violence, Gerard?"
"Violence there may have to be; but not of the kind in your thoughts. I am no assassin, whether at Cambrai or here."
"Then you have some scheme with which to combat him? Can you not tell me that?" she asked with almost wistful eagerness.
"It is one that would speak to your heart, Gabrielle, for it will touch the welfare of all in Morvaix."
"Now you frighten me. Would you further a revolt here? Heaven knows our wretched people are hot against him and ripe for a movement of the kind. But he is so strong in his soldiery, the end would be but useless bloodshed to be followed by even more grinding tyranny and misery for the city."
