Tavannes nodded carelessly in return, looked an instant at the cards on the table, and passed on, pushed his way through the circle, and reached the door.

He was lifting the curtain to go out, when Nancay, the Captain of the Guard, plucked his sleeve.
"What have you been saying to Foucauld, M.de Tavannes ?" he muttered.
"I ?" "Yes," with a jealous glance, "you, M.le Comte." Count Hannibal looked at him with the sudden ferocity that made the man a proverb at Court.
"What I chose, M.le Capitaine des Suisses!" he hissed.

And his hand closed like a vice on the other's wrist.

"What I chose, look you! And remember, another time, that I am not a Huguenot, and say what I please." "But there is great need of care," Nancay protested, stammering and flinching.

"And--and I have orders, M.le Comte." "Your orders are not for me," Tavannes answered, releasing his arm with a contemptuous gesture.