There were with him two of the Queen's ladies--Madame de Montal, and the bright-eyed Cypriote, Mademoiselle Davila, she who had escaped from the sack of Cyprus--and these two immediately appropriated mademoiselle, asking ten questions in a breath, never waiting for answer, and detailing the hardships of their own journey of four leagues or so from Paris. I had no chance of another word with her, and rode morosely by Lorgnac's side.

That night we lay at the priory of Longpont; but I saw nothing of mademoiselle, for the ladies both dined and supped by themselves, leaving De Lorgnac and myself to our own devices. After supper, as we paced the garden together, De Lorgnac gave me the news of the day, mentioning, amongst other things, that Vendome had returned to the Court once more, and that all differences between him and the d.u.c.h.ess de Valentinois appeared to have been buried. I glanced at the signet that I wore on my finger, Vendome's gift to me, saying:

"That is, perhaps, the best thing that could have happened for me; but I little dreamed that Vendome would ever have joined hands with Diane."

"As to that," he said, "I have long ceased to be surprised at anything.

Poor Le Brusquet was in disgrace for a whole day for suggesting a new device for the Duke--a weatherc.o.c.k on a steeple." And he laughed as he added: "The Duke came back almost a week ago, with five hundred gentlemen in his train--amongst others the late rebel De Ganache, for whom he has obtained a pardon."

"De Ganache!"

"Yes; there has been a turn of the wheel, and for the moment the new religion is in favour. What it means I know not; but as for De Ganache, the Court gossips are already linking his name with Diane's.

'Tis certain he is ever at her heels."

"The weatherc.o.c.k would suit him as well as Vendome," I said a little bitterly; "but it is good news that even for the moment the new faith is in favour. It removes one danger, and the other is----"

"Back in Paris," interrupted De Lorgnac.

"You mean my brother?"

"Yes; the Vidame came back a trifle over a fortnight ago with an arm very much hurt and one-third of his usual following of cut-throats."

"He will not have much trouble in filling his vacancies; but is he much hurt?" And I smiled grimly to myself.

"Oh! he was badly pinked; but his arm is out of its sling now. There is some devil's broth preparing, and he and Diane are the cooks. Le Brusquet, however, has sworn to put his ladle into it, and so we shall see things ere long."

"Not I," I laughed. "I shall be in Italy with Montluc."

"You may not," was the dry answer. "Recollect that the Queen has the first claim on you, and the war between her and Diane will soon be open war. Up to now it has been a kiss and a stab, but soon it will be all stab."

And so we talked until a late hour, and little did I think, as I retired to sleep, that Lorgnac's doubt about my Italian journey would come to be true.

It was well on towards the afternoon that we reached the Porte St.

Michel, for we had started late, and Madame de Montal would on no account be parted from the sumpter horses, whose rate of progress was necessarily slow. M. Agrippa de Pavanes was at the gate, and as we filed in, I last of all, he looked hard at me; but I had other business on hand, and could not at the moment spare time to devote to this gentleman. It was clear, however, that he owed me a grudge over the affair of the King's letter. As it happened, we never met again; and Pavanes, if he still lives, must look upon his account with me as one of his unsettled scores.

A few yards from the gate the road narrowed, and at the corner where the little Rue Poiree strikes off between two rows of tumble-down houses to join the Rue St. Jacques there was somewhat of a block. I had fallen back behind the sumpter horses, and halted for a moment, when I felt a hand rest lightly on my stirrup. I looked down, and, as I live, it was La Marmotte.

"You!" I exclaimed. "In Paris!"

"Monsieur," she said hurriedly, her face pale and haggard, "this meeting is not chance. Ask for me tomorrow at vespers at the shop of Barou the armourer in the Rue Tire Boudin. If you do not do this you will never cease to regret it. Fail not!" And she made as if to draw away.

"A word," I said. "Trotto--does he live?"

"Oh! he lives. Thanks, monsieur, a thousand thanks!"

I had placed a piece of money in her hand, to take off any suspicion, and, rising to her part, she seized it, calling down blessings on me, and stepped back into the crowd.

Our party had gone a little ahead, and I did not overtake them until almost opposite the Cordeliers, where I joined De Lorgnac.

"That was a strange-looking beggar," he remarked.

"She was no beggar, De Lorgnac; but of her I will tell you when you, Le Brusquet, and I are once more together."

"I shall try to wait until then; it will be in less than an hour."

We then joined the ladies, and rode by them, all outwardly in high spirits. As we rode past the tennis courts the sumpter horses were diverted to enter the Louvre by the gate near the riding-school, but we ourselves rode directly towards the main entrance. On arrival there we noticed a large crowd of sightseers at the gates, and our further progress was stopped by a carriage, surrounded by a troop of the King's guards, that came slowly out of the gate. In the carriage sat, or rather reclined, a woman robed in black and white--a woman with sullen, dark eyes and a face lovely in its pride. It was the crescent moon--Diane herself. The carriage came out slowly, as I have said, the horses walking, and from where I rode beside mademoiselle I saw her clearly. She was toying with a little dog she held under her arm and talking to a young man who sat facing her--a man whose face burned like fire, and the laugh on whose lips died away when he saw us--for it was De Ganache. The d.u.c.h.ess followed his glance, and turned in our direction. As her fathomless eyes fell on mademoiselle her lips parted in a smile.

"St. Siege! it must be your little heiress. Come, tell me, De Ganache--is it not so?"

Her voice, clear as a bell, came to us distinctly. The veiled scorn and mockery in her glance was not to be mistaken, and then the horses were whipped up, and she was gone. It was all over in a moment; but I saw the riding-whip in mademoiselle's hand trembling, and she kept her face from me, looking straight between her horse's ears.

"Do you know who that was?" I asked in a low voice; but she made no answer, and I went on:

"Remember the prophecy you told me of, and--be on your guard against the woman in black and white. That was Diane of Valentinois."

CHAPTER XX

THE CROWN JEWELS

An hour later I sat with Lorgnac and Le Brusquet in a little room in the former's house in the Rue Tire Boudin. At the Louvre I had discovered that there was no chance of my being able to see the Queen until after the supper hour; and so I accepted the hospitality De Lorgnac offered me, and was back again in the very house in which I had spent my last night in Paris.

A few minutes after our arrival Le Brusquet ambled up on a Spanish mule, and soon we three were deep in discussing what had happened since the day I rode out of the Porte St. Michel. I had perforce to relate my own adventures, and when I described my meeting with La Marmotte and her strange request De Lorgnac rose from his seat, and approaching the window, said:

"You can see Maitre Barou's store from here. It abuts on my stables, and you will not have far to go to keep your appointment."

"If I do keep it; but at present I have no such intention."

"You must keep it." It was Le Brusquet's incisive voice that cut in.

"Why? There is no reason why we should ever meet again."

"There is every reason--that is, if you take sufficient interest in the future of Mademoiselle de Paradis."

De Lorgnac came back to his seat. I looked inquiry, and Le Brusquet continued:

"A few things have been happening lately that make me think there is a porridge on the boil that would be the better for our help in the stirring. There have been little whispers afloat that Diane is meditating a great _coup_. Certain it is, that she and that upright judge Dom Antony de Mouchy have been much together of late. Certain it is that this coquetting with the new faith means more than Christian toleration; and, putting this and that together, I have got a clue.

You do not know Carloix, do you?"

"No."

"Well, Maitre Vincent Carloix was my sister's husband whilst she lived.

He is also my very good friend, and, besides that, secretary to that most n.o.ble lord Francois de Scepeaux, Marshal de Vieilleville. Carloix is a discreet man; but I gathered enough from him to guess that it would be safer for a Christaudin to be a prisoner with a Barbary corsair than be in Paris now, despite all the hobn.o.bbing that goes on between the Court and Vendome and the Admiral."

"But," said De Lorgnac, "how does all this concern Mademoiselle de Paradis? Even if it did she is the Queen's ward."

"Anne d'Audeberte was a maid-of-honour, and you both know what happened to her. My dear De Lorgnac, our friend here has told us enough for us to know that mademoiselle is a heretic to her pretty fingertips. This is bad--for her. Recollect that the Vidame d'Orrain is Diane's right-hand man; and we may be certain that his attempt on Mademoiselle de Paradis was made with the full knowledge of the d.u.c.h.ess. Recollect, again, that this woman La Marmotte is the wife or mistress--I care not which--of Orrain's own man----"