“I believe that you have something important to say to me, and that, not wishing to receive me at your hotel, or at Bel-Esbat, you preferred this isolated spot.”
“You thought that?”—“Yes.”
“And what do you think I could have to say to you?” asked the lady, rather anxiously.
“How can I tell? Perhaps something about M. de Mayenne.”
“Had you not already told me all you knew of him?”
“Perhaps, then, some question about last night’s event.”
“What event? of what do you speak?” asked the lady, visibly agitated.
“Of the panic experienced by M. d’Epernon and the arrest of the Lorraine gentlemen.”
“They arrested them?”
“Yes, those who were found on the road to Vincennes.”
“Which is also the road to Soissons, where M. de Guise holds his garrison. Ah! M. Ernanton, you, who belong to the court, can tell me why they arrested these gentlemen.”
“I belong to the court?”
“Certainly.”
“You know that, madame?”
“Ah! to find out your address, we were forced to make inquiries. But what resulted from all this?”
“Nothing, madame, to my knowledge.”
“Then why did you think I should wish to speak of it?”
“I am wrong again, madame.”
“From what place are you, monsieur?”
“From Agen.”
“What, you are a Gascon! and yet are not vain enough to suppose that when I saw you at the Porte St. Antoine, on the day of Salcede’s execution, I liked your looks.”
Ernanton reddened, and looked confused.
The lady went on. “That I met you in the street, and found you handsome.”
Ernanton grew scarlet.
“That afterward, when you brought me a message from my brother, I liked you.”
“Madame, I never thought so, I protest.”
“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.”
“Oh!” cried the lady, “say all you think, or I shall regret having come.”
Ernanton fell on his knees.
“Speak, madame, speak, that I may be sure this is not all a dream, and perhaps I shall dare to answer.”
“So be it. Here are my projects for you,” said the lady, gently pushing Ernanton back, while she arranged the folds of her dress; “I fancy you, but I do not yet know you. I am not in the habit of resisting my fancies; but I never commit follies. Had we been equals, I should have received you at my house, and studied you before I hinted at my feelings; but as that was impossible, I was driven to this interview; now you know what to do; be worthy of me, it is all I ask.”