Gonzague began to lose his patience. He was bound, in the presence of his
friends, to keep up the assumption of belief in the gentility of Flora,
in her heirship to Nevers. He addressed her, harshly: "Mademoiselle de
Nevers, if you are mad enough to wish to abandon your rights to an
impostor, I am here to protect you, and I order you at once to retire."
Flora gave no sign of obedience, and Gabrielle spoke again: "I am
Gabrielle de Nevers. Why have I been brought here?"
Gonzague turned to her, and his manner was that of a judge coolly
courteous to one whom he professed to believe possibly innocent of
complicity in sin: "You have been brought here because I did not wish to
deliver you to the stern justice of the law. Your offence is grave, but
the fault lies with your accomplice, and his alone the penalty."
Gabrielle looked all about her, sustaining bravely the bold stares of the
dancing-women and the evil admiration of the men. "Where is Henri de
Lagardere?" she asked; and then, as only silence followed upon her
question, she cried: "Ah, he must be dead, since he is not here to defend
me."