'A very pretty tool.

Were I in your place, M.de Marsac, I would see that it hung loose in the scabbard.

Ay, and more, man, use it!' he added, sinking his voice and sticking out his chin, while his grey eyes, looking ever closer into mine, seemed to grow cold and hard as steel.

'Use it to the last, for if you fall into Turenne's hands, God help you! I cannot!' 'If I am taken, sire,' I answered, trembling, but not with fear, 'my fate be on my own head.' I saw the king's eyes soften, at that, and his face change so swiftly that I scarce knew him for the same man.

He let the weapon drop with a clash on the table.