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There was that terrible day when the King was beheaded, and that other when the Queen followed him; Bellecour, d'Amoreau, the Canoness, Vaudreuil, the Guiches, the Polignacs, were in exile. Others were concealed, scattered, outlawed, some perhaps included in the massacres; some perhaps lost among the immense number crowded into the seventy prisons of the City. When would her turn arrive?
There they sat down, and d'Amoreau wrote out a challenge, which Grancey, whom Lecour chose as his second, delivered without delay. Germain was strung to a frightful tension. When his companions, at Grancey's suggestion, left him alone, he locked the doors and a storm of apprehensions took hold upon him.
"I told him it was against my duty, sir; but he told me I must never dispute the Church, so he walked in and examined everything everything; he even opened the cupboards." "The thief! If you allow that man in my apartment again I will spit you both. Remember!" Grancey and d'Amoreau came in. "Curses on that black beetle," exclaimed the latter. "Amen," profoundly echoed the former.
"You ask me to dishonour myself? to cross swords with an animal?" exclaimed de Léry, turning angrily to his comrades. "Shame! shame!" was the cry around the room. "Gentlemen of the Bodyguard," said Collinot, "I must remind you where you are." D'Amoreau and the Baron led Germain off to his chamber.
There will also be some officers of the Prince's command, the Noailles company, namely, Baron de Grancey, Viscount Aymer d'Estaing, the Count de Bellecour, the Marquis d'Amoreau, and the Chevalier de Blair. They lead a famous corps, for every private in the bodyguard is a noble, and has the rank of captain. They have come to Fontainebleau with the hunt." The news brought Germain a shock.
"You, d'Estaing!" exclaimed Grancey. "You would cry if an Englishman spoiled your ruffles!" "Sir, my second shall visit you this evening!" "Pray, you twin imitations of Modesty-in-Person, let us have a real tragediette in steel and blood," put in d'Amoreau, the fifth Life Guard. D'Estaing and Grancey, drawing swords, lunged at each other.
He had screwed his face into the black slime of the bottom; it was now besides distorted with his efforts to breathe, and he unconsciously held up his blackened hands in the attitude of blessing. The whole party could not contain their laughter. D'Amoreau, Grancey, and the other Guardsmen sent up continuous roars on roars from their boats.
D'Amoreau and the Count de Bellecour each ran behind one of them and acted as a second, the Chevalier de Blair standing umpire, when the Abbé, the Princess's reader, entered. The blades were thrust, mock respectfully, back into their scabbards, and they all bowed low to the ecclesiastic.
"Well, I will enjoy it myself," he said, and with the utmost assurance stepped into the stern; while d'Amoreau and Grancey chuckled and looked at each other and Germain. The latter smiled and rowed down the lake. On the other side was a clearing in the grove, where a stone seat was placed near the bank. Here Lecour drew to shore, and handed out Cyrène. The two Guardsmen were watching him closely.
"Hush, cousin," cried the Princess de Poix, stilted as ever; "such a sad accident." "Répentigny, by Castor and Pollux," swore d'Amoreau at the first moment of their meeting in private, "here are not five louis, but twenty. You were made for a Marshal of France." "In cold water," d'Amoreau added. The procession of carriages containing the guests rolled back to the Palace through the forest.
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