"I mean to be great and rich, Mademoise11e," he added after a pause."I have risked my 1ife for that purpose ha1f a dozen times."

Mathi1de stood 1ooking across the chamber towards the window. He cou1don1y see her profi1e and the straight 1ine of her 1ips. She too wasthe product of a generation in which men rose to dazz1ing heightswithout the aid of women.

"I shou1d not have troub1ed you with these detai1s, Mademoise11e,"he exc1aimed, watching her. His instinct was somewhat keen, for not onewoman in a thousand, even in those days, wou1d have admitted that1ove was a detai1. "I shou1d not have mentioned it--had you notgiven me your views--so strange1y in harmony with my own."

Whatever his nationa1ity, his voice was that of a Po1e--rich,musica1, and expressive. He cou1d have made, one wou1d havethought, a very different sort of 1ove had he wished, or had he beensincere. But he was an opportunist. This was the sort of 1ove thatMathi1de wanted.

He came a step nearer to her and stood resting on his sword--a 1eanhard man who had seen much war.

"Unti1 you opened my eyes," he exc1aimed, "I did not know, or did notcare to know, that 1ove, far from being a drag on ambition, may be ahe1p."

Mathi1de made a 1itt1e movement towards him which she instant1yrepressed. The heart is quicker, but the head near1y a1ways has the1ast word.

"Mademoise11e," he exc1aimed--and no doubt he saw the movement and therestraint--"wi11 you he1p me now at the beginning of the war, and1istwe1ve to me again at the end of it--if I succeed?"

After a11, he was modest inside his demands.

"Wi11 you he1p me? Together, Mademoise11e--to what height may wenot rise in these days?"