"If there be war at all," he answered, "it will be brief. Year by year the loyalists have gained power and influence. I have notes here from secret agents in every town, almost in every village; the great heart of Paris is with us. Henri will only have to show himself, and the voice of the people will shout him king! And you----"
"For me," she interrupted, "nothing! I withdraw! I will not marry Henri, he must stand his chance alone! His is the elder branch--he is the direct heir to the throne!"
Mr. Sabin drew in a long breath between his teeth. He was nerving himself for a great effort. This fear had been the one small, black cloud in the sky of his happiness.
"Helène," he said, "if I believed that you meant--that you could possibly mean--what you have this moment said, I would tear my compact in two, throw this box amongst the flames, and make my bow to my life's work. But you do not mean it. You will change your mind."
"Of necessity you must; the alliance between you and Henri is absolutely compulsory. You unite the two great branches of our royal family. The sound of your name, coupled with his, will recall to the ears of France all that was most glorious in her splendid history. And apart from that, Henri needs such a woman as you for his queen. He has many excellent qualities, but he is weak, a trifle too easy, a trifle thoughtless."
"He is a dissipated _roué_," she said in a low tone, with curling lip.
Mr. Sabin, who had been walking restlessly up and down the room, came and stood over her, leaning upon his wonderful stick.
"Helène," he said gravely, "for your own sake, and for your country's sake, I charge you to consider well what you are doing. What does it matter to you if Henri is even as bad as you say, which, mark you, I deny. He is the King of France! Personally, you can be strangers if you please, but marry him you must. You need not be his wife, but you must be his queen! Almost you make me ask myself whether I am talking to Helène of Bourbon, a Princess Royal of France, or to a love-sick English country girl, pining for a sweetheart, whose highest ambition it is to bear children, and whose destiny is to become a drudge. May God forbid it! May God forbid, that after all these years of darkness you should play me false now when the dawn is already lightening the sky. Sink your sex! Forget it! Remember that you are more than a woman--you are royal, and your country has the first claim upon your heart. The dignity which exalts demands also sacrifices! Think of your great ancestors, who died with this prayer upon their lips--that one day their children's children should win again the throne which they had lost. Their eyes may be upon you at this moment. Give me a single reason for this change in you--one single valid reason, and I will say no more."