“It is as if you had them,” said he.

Nicholas bowed, and looked puzzled.

“Then it is agreed?” said the duke.

“What, monsieur?”

“That you will continue to instruct me?”

Nicholas hesitated.

“What! has your noble devotion vanished already?”

“No, monsieur.”

“Then I may count on you?”

“You may.”

“And I alone know this?”

“You alone.”

“Now you may go, my friend; and, parfandious, let M. de Mayenne look to himself.”

When D’Epernon returned to the king he found him playing at cup and ball.  D’Epernon assumed a thoughtful air, but the king did not remark it.  However, as the duke remained perfectly silent, the king raised his head and said, “Well, Lavalette, what is the matter, are you dead?”

“I wish I were,” replied D’Epernon, “and I should not see what I do see.”

“What, my cup and ball?”

“Sire, in a time of great peril the subject may be alarmed for the safety of his master.”

“What! again perils; devil take you, duke.”

“Then you are ignorant of what is passing?”

“Ma foi, perhaps.”

“Your most cruel enemies surround you at this moment.”

“Bah! who are they?”

“First, the Duchesse de Montpensier.”

“Yes, that is true; she came to see Salcede; but what is that to me?”

“You knew it, then?”

“You see I did.”

“But that M. de Mayenne was here?”

“Yes, since yesterday evening.”

“What! this secret?” cried D’Epernon, with a disagreeable surprise.

“Are there, then, any secrets from the king?  You are zealous, dear Lavalette, but you are slow.  This news would have been good at four o’clock yesterday, but to-day—­”

“Well, sire, to-day?”

“It comes too late, you will agree?”

“Still too soon, sire, it seems, since you will not listen to me.”

“I have been listening for half-an-hour.”

“You are menaced—­they lay ambushes for you.”

“Well, yesterday you gave me a guard, and assured me that my immortality was secured.  Are your Forty-five no longer worth anything?”

“Your majesty shall see.”

“I should not be sorry, duke; when shall I see?”

“Sooner perhaps than you think.”

“Ah! you want to frighten me.”

“You shall see, sire.  Apropos, when do you go to Vincennes?”

“On Saturday.”

“That is enough, sire.”  D’Epernon bowed and withdrew.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Two friends.

We will now follow the two young men sent by the king.  Scarcely on horseback, Ernanton and St. Maline, determined that one should not get before the other, nearly crushed each other in the gateway.  The face of St. Maline became purple, and that of Ernanton pale.