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"To a man who, whenever he can, helps the weak against the strong." "Will you give me some details, monsieur?" Ernanton told all he had seen, and named the duke's place of retreat. Madame de Montpensier and Mayneville listened with interest. When he had finished, the duchess said: "May I hope, monsieur, that you will continue the work so well begun, and attach yourself to our house?"
"And know that, when the Duc de Guise wishes to conspire, he conspires for himself." "What do I care?" "What!" "Mayneville! Mayneville!" murmured the same voice. "Yes, mordieu! what do I care?" continued the Gascon, "I came to Paris on business, and find the gates closed on account of this execution that is all I care for." At this moment there was a sound of trumpets.
The duchess's eyes shot forth fire at these words, but Ernanton stood firm. "Ah! you doubt still you want proofs!" cried she, tearing her lace ruffles with rage. "Yes, madame." She darted toward the bell, and rang it furiously; a valet appeared. "What does madame want?" said he. She stamped her foot with rage. "Mayneville!" cried she, "I want Mayneville. Is he not here?" "Yes, madame."
Reply, gentlemen of Paris, who promised to learn everything concerning your city." Thus Mayneville, from the accused, became the accuser, which is the great art of an orator. "Cards and exceptional admissions!" cried Nicholas Poulain, "what can that mean?" "If you do not know, who live here, how should I know, who live in Lorraine?" "How did these people come?"
"Certainly," said the duchess. "How was it that this did not occur to you?" said Mayneville. "I did think of it, and wished to send one of my men, who is a perfect Hercules, with M. Briquet, but he suspected, and dismissed him." "You must go yourself." "Impossible!" "And why?" "Because he knows me." "As a monk, but not as captain, I hope." "Ma foi! I do not know; he seems to know everything."
They both began to swear, but, looking up, recognized each other. "Brother Borromée!" cried Poulain. "Nicholas Poulain!" exclaimed the monk. "How are you?" asked Nicholas cautiously. "Where in the world were you running to in such a hurry at this time of night? Is the priory on fire?" "No; I was going to the Duchesse de Montpensier's hotel, to speak to M. de Mayneville." "And what for?"
"The hour will come; be easy." "But our men?" "They will be here; it is hardly eight." "Mayneville, my poor brother asks for his surgeon; the best surgeon, the best cure for his wound, will be a lock of the Valois's shaved head, and the man who should carry him that present, Mayneville, would be sure to be welcome."
They went toward the Louvre, and disappeared behind the Hotel des Meubles." "I have a very simple method of reply," said the duke. "What?" "To go and pay my respects to the king to-night." "To the king?" "Certainly; I have come to Paris he can have nothing to say against that." "The idea is good," said Mayneville. "It is imprudent," said the duchess.
"Let him come here." The valet went, and, a minute after, Mayneville entered. "Did you send for me, madame?" said he. "Madame! And since when am I simply madame?" cried she angrily. "Your highness!" said Mayneville, in surprise. "Good!" said Ernanton, "I have now a gentleman before me, and if he has lied, I shall know what to do." "You believe then, at last?" said the duchess.
"As soon as our men have arrived, range your monks on the road." "They are all ready, madame; they will intercept the way, our men will push the carriage toward them, the gates of the convent will be open, and will have but to close behind the carriage." "Let us sup, then, Mayneville, it will pass the time. I am so impatient, I should like to push the hands of the clock."
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