"Are you ennuye?"

"I fear so."

"Then Gertrude is abandoned?"

"Perfectly."

"You grew tired?"

"Of being beaten. That was how her love showed itself."

"And does your heart not speak for her to-night?"

"Why to-night?"

"Because I would have taken you with me."

"To the Bastile?"

"Yes."

"You are going there?"

"Yes."

"And Monsoreau?"

"Is at Compiegne, preparing a chase for the king."

"Are you sure, monsieur?"

"The order was given publicly this morning."

"Ah, well; Jourdain, my sword."

"You have changed your mind?"

"I will accompany you to the door, for two reasons."

"What are they?"

"Firstly, lest you should meet any enemies." Bussy smiled.

"Oh! mon Dieu, I know you fear no one, and that Remy the doctor is but a poor companion; still, two men are not so likely to be attacked as one. Secondly, because I have a great deal of good advice to give you."

"Come, my dear Remy, come. We will speak of her; and next to the pleasure of seeing the woman you love, I know none greater than talking of her."

Bussy then took the arm of the young doctor, and they set off. Remy on the way tried hard to induce Bussy to return early, insisting that he would be more fit for his duel on the morrow.

Bussy smiled. "Fear nothing," said he.

"Ah! my dear master, to-morrow you ought to fight like Hercules against Antaeus--like Theseus against the Minotaur--like Bayard--like something Homeric, gigantic, impossible; I wish people to speak of it in future times as the combat, par excellence, and in which you had not even received a scratch."

"Be easy, my dear Remy, you shall see wonders. This morning I put swords in the hands of four fencers, who during eight minutes could not touch me once, while I tore their doublets to pieces."

So conversing, they arrived in the Rue St. Antoine.

"Adieu! here we are," said Bussy.

"Shall I wait for you?"

"Why?"

"To make sure that you will return before two o'clock, and have at least five or six hours' sleep before your duel."

"If I give you my word?"

"Oh! that will be enough; Bussy's word is never doubted."

"You have it then."

"Then, adieu, monsieur."

"Adieu, Remy."

Remy watched, and saw Bussy enter, not this time by the window, but boldly through the door, which Gertrude opened for him. Then Remy turned to go home; but he had only gone a few steps, when he saw coming towards him five armed men, wrapped in cloaks.

When they arrived about ten yards from him, they said good night to each other, and four went off in different directions, while the fifth remained stationary.

"M. de St. Luc!" said Remy.

"Remy!"

"Remy, in person. Is it an indiscretion to ask what your lordship does at this hour so far from the Louvre?"

"Ma foi! I am examining, by the king's order, the physiognomy of the city. He said to me, 'St. Luc, walk about the streets of Paris, and if you hear any one say I have abdicated, contradict him.'"

"And have you heard it?"

"Nowhere; and as it is just midnight, and I have met no one but M. de Monsoreau, I have dismissed my friends, and am about to return."

"M. de Monsoreau?"

"Yes."

"You met him?"

"With a troop of armed men; ten or twelve at least."

"Impossible!"