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"That is capital; it is just where I was going." "It is lucky that this little journey pleases you so much." Ernanton was then conducted by his companions to the courtyard of Vincennes.
"Then you were wrong," said the lady, turning on him two eyes which flashed through her mask. Ernanton clasped his hands. "Madame, are you mocking me?" cried he. "Ma foi! no. The truth is, that you pleased me." "Mon Dieu!" "But you yourself dared to declare your love to me." "But then I did not know who you were, madame; and now that I do know, I humbly ask your pardon."
Then, as Ernanton still hesitated, he cried, "For pity's sake, monsieur, I entreat you." Ernanton raised him in his arms at this last appeal, and was somewhat astonished at the delicacy of the body he held. Just as Salcede had taken the pen, and looked round as we have said, he saw this young lad above the crowd, with two fingers placed on his lips.
"Madame," said the young man, "you sent for your humble servant here he is." "Ah! very well," said the lady; "sit down, I beg, M. Ernanton." "Pardon, madame, but before anything I must thank you for the honor that you do me." "Ah! that is civil, and you are right; but I presume you do not know whom you are thanking, M. de Carmainges."
"Then you are in the king's service?" "I have that honor." "And yet you save M. de Mayenne? Permit me to tell you, monsieur, that that is not being a good servant." "I think differently." "Well, perhaps you are right. What is your name?" "Ernanton de Carmainges." "Well, M. Ernanton, what are we to do with this great carcase?" "I will watch over M. de Mayenne, monsieur."
There, after having knocked at the great door and had it opened, he was only laughed at when he asked for an interview with the duchess. Then, as he insisted, they told him that he ought to know that her highness lived at Soissons and not at Paris. Ernanton was prepared for this reception, so it did not discourage him.
At the sight of Ernanton she wiped her eyes, as if she had been crying, and throwing her arms round the young man's neck, begged for his pardon, in spite of her husband's representations that, as she had done no wrong, she had nothing to be pardoned for. Ernanton assured her that he did not blame her at all that it was only her wine that was in fault.
Maline waited impatiently until he came out again, which he did in about ten minutes, although it appeared an hour to St. Maline. When Ernanton came out, he looked all over him, and seeing nothing, he cried joyfully, "And you, monsieur, what has he given to you?" "His hand to kiss," replied Ernanton. St. Maline crushed his chain impatiently in his hands, and they both returned in silence.
His white face had an expression of demoniac hate, yet his thrusts became the more adroit and swift, his guard the more impenetrable and firm. His body was as sinuous as a wild beast's, his eye as steady. The longer he fought, the more formidable he became as an adversary. He was worth a score of Vicomtes de Berquin. "Ernanton," cried mademoiselle, "you know all my treachery!"
"Monsieur, I exceedingly regret I am unable to wait," replied Ernanton, "but the fact is, I am expecting some one who will come and knock at this very door, and this person will be angry with me if I do not show the greatest possible discretion in receiving him." "That is quite sufficient, monsieur, I understand," said Chicot; "I am sorry to have been so importunate, and I now retire."
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