CHAPTER LI.

Chicot’s astonishment at finding himself so popular in Nerac.

Chicot, having taken his resolution, began to prepare his little packet.  “How much time will it take me,” thought he, as he did so, “to carry to the king the news of what I have seen and fear?  Two days to arrive at a city whence the governor can send couriers; Cahors, for example, of which Henri of Navarre thinks so much.  Once there, I can rest, for after all a man must rest some time.  Come, then, Chicot, speed and sang froid.  You thought you had accomplished your mission, and you are but half-way through it.”

Chicot now extinguished the light, opened his door softly, and began to creep downstairs on tip-toe.

He went into an antechamber, but he had hardly gone four steps before he kicked against something.  This something was D’Aubiac lying on a mat.

“Ah! good-evening, M. d’Aubiac,” said Chicot, “but get out of the way a little, I beg; I want to go for a walk.”

“Ah! but it is forbidden to walk by night near this castle.”

“Why so?”

“Because the king fears robbers, and the queen lovers.”

“Diable!”

“None but robbers or lovers want to walk at night, when they ought to be sleeping.”

“However, dear M. d’Aubiac,” said Chicot, with his most charming smile, “I am neither the one nor the other, but an ambassador, very tired from having talked Latin with the queen and supped with the king; let me go out then, my friend, for I want a walk.”

“In the city, M. Chicot?”

“Oh no! in the gardens.”

“Peste! that is still more forbidden than in the city.”

“My little friend, you are very vigilant for your age.  Have you nothing to occupy yourself with?”

“No.”

“You neither gamble nor fall in love.”

“To gamble one must have money, M. Chicot, and to be in love, one must find a lady.”

“Assuredly,” said Chicot, and feeling in his pocket he drew out ten pistoles and slipped them into the page’s hand, saying, “Seek well in your memory, and I bet you will find some charming woman, to whom I beg you to make some presents with this.”

“Oh, M. Chicot!” said the page, “it is easy to see that you come from the court of France; you have manners to which one can refuse nothing:  go then, but make no noise.”

Chicot went on; glided like a shadow into the corridor, and down the staircase, but at the bottom he found an officer sleeping on a chair, placed right against the door, so that it was impossible to pass.

“Ah! little wretch of a page,” murmured Chicot, “you knew this.”