“You merit two deaths for your insolence,” said he, “but the oath of which you spoke restrains me, and I will touch you no more; let me pass.  Come, madame, I answer for your free passage.”

Then appeared a woman, whose head was covered by a hood, and her face by a mask, and who took Ernanton’s arm, tremblingly.  St. Maline stood by, stifling with rage at his merited punishment.  He drew his dagger as Ernanton passed by him.  Did he mean to strike Ernanton, or only to do what he did?  No one knew, but as they passed, his dagger cut through the silken hood of the duchess and severed the string of her mask, which fell to the ground.  This movement was so rapid that in the half light no one saw or could prevent it.  The duchess uttered a cry; St. Maline picked up the mask and returned it to her, looking now full in her uncovered face.

“Ah!” cried he, in an insolent tone, “it is the beautiful lady of the litter.  Ernanton, you get on fast.”

Ernanton stopped and half-drew his sword again; but the duchess drew him on, saying, “Come on, I beg you, M. Ernanton.”

“We shall meet again, M. de St. Maline,” said Ernanton, “and you shall pay for this, with the rest.”

And he went on without meeting with any further opposition, and conducted the duchess to her litter, which was guarded by two servants.  Arrived there and feeling herself in safety, she pressed Ernanton’s hand, and said, “M.  Ernanton, after what has just passed, after the insult which, in spite of your courage, you could not defend me from, and which might probably be renewed, we can come here no more; seek, I beg of you, some house in the neighborhood to sell or to let; before long you shall hear from me.”

“Must I now take leave of you, madame?” said Ernanton, bowing in token of obedience to the flattering orders he had just received.

“Not yet, M. de Carmainges; follow my litter as far as the new bridge, lest that wretch who recognized in me the lady of the litter, but did not know me for what I am, should follow to find out my residence.”

Ernanton obeyed, but no one watched them.  When they arrived at the Pont Neuf, which then merited the name, as it was scarcely seven years since Ducerceau had built it, the duchess gave her hand to Ernanton, saying, “Now go, monsieur.”

“May I dare to ask when I shall see you again, madame?”

“That depends on the length of time which you take in executing my commission, and your haste will be a proof to me of your desire to see me again.”

“Oh, madame, I shall not be idle.”

“Well, then, go, Ernanton.”

“It is strange,” thought the young man, as he retraced his steps; “I cannot doubt that she likes me, and yet she does not seem the least anxious as to whether or not I get killed by that brute of a St. Maline.  But, poor woman, she was in great trouble, and the fear of being compromised is, particularly with princesses, the strongest of all sentiments.”