What do you say?"
"I don't know," said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of
Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. "I don't
know that I shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in
the affair is only a curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one
of importance in town goes about with an air of expectancy. I
never saw anything like it. It is the king, the archbishop and
the chancellor against two hundred thousand. You're a soldier;
can't you smell powder?"
"Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?"
"Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will."
"But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!"
"Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal
cuirassiers, the actual head of the army here?"
"A fine soldier," said the Englishman, heartily. "Rides like a
centaur and wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw."
"I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can
lick him at both games."
Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. "There is the one flaw in
your make-up. I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe
me, it is only the constant practice and a wrist of iron which
make the saber formidable.
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